


All We Know is Falling

by leonhart_17



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, I have been calling it the Parent Trap AU, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker Raised Together, Padmé Amidala Lives, but there was only one blast door
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28408299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonhart_17/pseuds/leonhart_17
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…The Galactic Republic has ended with the death of Anakin Skywalker and the fall of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.  In their place have risen the Galactic Empire and the cruel Sith Lord Darth Vader.Soon a Rebellion will rise, its leader a shadowy figure bent for revenge against the Sith for the death of her husband.  Soon Vader will begin a mission to hunt down and destroy the Rebellion’s mysterious leader.For now, fleeing Mustafar after his duel with Vader, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, with Padme Amidala on board, seeks to find a place to hide from the Sith Lords of the Galaxy.  Plans must be made.  Allies must be gathered.  Secrets must be kept.  Obi-Wan is the only person who knows that Anakin Skywalker has fallen to the Dark Side and become Vader.  With the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Sith, Padme’s child may be the only hope of the galaxy…
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 98
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, y'all this is something I have been working on for pretty much a year or more (who knows anymore) and I really really love it. I have never written for Star Wars before but it has been my primary fandom pretty much my whole life. The story is completely written and is being edited, so I should be able to figure out a posting schedule that's pretty routine.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy!

Flesh burning. The smell made Obi-Wan Kenobi’s gorge rise. His hand rose to cover his mouth, fingers pushing through the ginger of his beard. The light behind his eyes burned red like a sun. Like a star going nova. Like blood, squeezed between white teeth on words of hate. Like lava burning away humanity and leaving only despair.

Blue eyes opened and the world realigned yet again. Around him was sterile and white, not the dark rubble of Mustafar. Beyond the room the ship moved through lightspeed, noticeable only by the slightest of vibration of the deck below his boots. A steady beeping was the only sound before the air was ripped through by the sound of crying. An infant sound, new and high, little lungs testing their new capabilities. Obi-Wan watched as the newborn son of Anakin Skywalker wriggled and squirmed in the hold of the nurse droid. His heart pounded, equal parts dismayed and hopeful as he felt the child through the Force. The baby, as yet unnamed, burned through the light. A sun contained within a physical being.

The twin sun rose the next moment, another baby blazing into the Force. Obi-Wan felt his breath leave his lungs. Twins. A son and a daughter. A chill ran down his spine.

Padme Amidala’s hand tightened in his own, but he could not tear his eyes away, watching as the babies were revealed to their mother. His other hand was under her shoulder and his fingers twitched against the soft chiffon of her tunic. Their names were gasped, heard dimly, as though from a great distance. Obi-Wan felt as if he were watching events through water, shifting and liquid before his eyes.

Padme’s head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closed. Across the room, Bail Organa paced. His formal Senator’s garb was wrinkled and dirty where he had fled the Jedi temple and had not yet changed. His black hair hung across his forehead, dark skin sallow and pale. Broad shoulders were hunched with anxious despair. He was speaking but Obi-Wan could not hear him except as the rushing of blood through his head.

Anakin had children. Twin babies whose power burned and glowed in the Force. He could never know. Not about his children and not about his wife. Not if the three of them were to be safe from the reach of Vader and his Emperor.

“We have to kill her.”

His words, spoken softly, brought the room to an immediate halt.

Bail practically charged the birthing table, rushing to the defense of his friend. “What?!”

“Have a funeral, I mean,” he clarified quickly. Such was her exhaustion and weariness that Padme did not move to lift her head, only laid there with her eyes closed. Across the stars, Obi-Wan could feel darkness rising, night dawning in a terrifying antithesis of the way it should be. The last flicker of Anakin Skywalker, the Hero Without Fear, his best friend, his brother, disappeared.

What raised its head in his place was pain, anger, fear. Everything he had tried to train Anakin to let go of. _Darth Vader._

He cleared his throat roughly. “While Palpatine lives, we must have the galaxy believe that Padme Amidala and her children have died,” he tried to explain. “It is imperative that Vader never discover that Anakin’s child lives.” Bail’s eyes went wide, mouth falling open. Obi-Wan could see him working it through in his mind. “Vader and his Emperor will fall.” Obi-Wan’s head fell forward, eyes finding the pulse that beat in the side of Padme’s neck. She had gone limp and heavy against his side. Unconscious with grief and sheer exhaustion, her mind flayed and in pain he could feel through the Force. He shared it – a heavy splinter that even now burrowed into the depths of his heart. He exhaled. It hurt. “But we’ve lost – everything.” Ginger hair fell over his eyes. “We’re in no position to strike, not now.”

Bail was quiet, speculative. One arm curled to stroke his goatee. The other hand rested protectively over Padme’s wrist. “She was –“ he hesitated, having never spoken aloud the secret he had suspected for so long. “Anakin –“ he tried again. Obi-Wan looked up at him, the answer in his eyes. “Spirits,” he sighed softly. His glance flicked to where the nurse droids were cleaning up Luke and Leia Skywalker. His voice grew stronger. “Can they be trained?”

Obi-Wan felt the warmth of twin suns on him again. A tiny flicker of something impossible, something that felt like hope, stirred. “It will take time. Until they are ready, they must be hidden.”

“It has to be public,” Bail mused, picking up the thread. “The funeral and the news that the baby died. The only way they’re safe –“ His eyes settled on the slumped Jedi. “- and you too, is if the galaxy thinks you’re all dead.” His authoritative nature asserted itself, his words coming more quickly as the beginnings of the plan began to coalesce in his mind. “I can take care of that,” he stated. “Leave it to me. You’ll stay with Padme and the children. You’ll help hide them, keep them safe.” Obi-Wan nodded listlessly, his own thoughts swirling. “What do you need?” asked Bail kindly. Their decisions here, in this moment felt momentous, their actions critically important, but Obi-Wan was his friend, reeling from an unspeakable betrayal, an unbearable loss.

The Jedi’s shoulder rose as his head lifted. “A ship, to start,” he said dryly, a shadow of his old wry wit present. “A way to communicate. Resources –“ he faltered, shaking his head. “I cannot begin to imagine –“

“An ally?” Bail suggested softly. His words were vague, his eyes were not – intent and focused.

“The Jedi are dead,” Obi-Wan reminded him, the pain of it twisting in his gut. “Everyone –“

He interjected, his voice quiet. “Not everyone.” Obi-Wan’s incomprehension was clear on his face. “She is not a Jedi,” Bail said, swallowing. “Not anymore.”

Obi-Wan blinked, the realization striking him like a blow. “Ahsoka –“ His heart jumped despite himself. She had been on Mandalore, with Maul. And a contingent of the Five-Oh-First. “The clones –“

“She’s already reached out,” Bail promised, lifting his hand from Padme’s arm to reveal a comlink cupped in his palm. He shrugged almost guiltily. “She was trying to reach Padme when she could not get Anakin or you. She saw your warning about the Temple. She and Rex escaped the purge.”

“R-Rex – She’s alive? Ahsoka is alive?” Obi-Wan breathed out. Something hard inside his chest released ever so slightly.

Bail nodded, a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “She’s just waiting for word where to rendezvous.”

There was so much he needed to know but Obi-Wan’s attention was drawn by the nurse droid wheeling up to the table and presenting him with a freshly swaddled, blinking, blue-eyed baby boy. Across the table the other droid was handing Leia to Bail, who looked reverently into her little face. Looking down at his own bundle, Obi-Wan tried to find traces of his friends in the boy. Young Luke just stared up at him.

“We have to keep them safe,” Bail murmured. Leia was snuggled against his chest, the senator rocking her from side to side gently. “We need a plan. So when the time is right, we will be ready.”

Padme was breathing deeply, unconscious and beyond hearing the universe shifting around her. Her own life was already in upheaval so profound Obi-Wan was not sure how she would begin to recover. Her husband had tried to murder her. Had murdered others – the count of which could hardly be known. Had betrayed them all, betrayed the galaxy.

“Bail.” The quiet word brought the senator to a stop. “She must – “ The Jedi’s throat felt tight. The words were a stone in his neck, lodged there – sharp and painful. “She must never find out what happened to Anakin.” Bail looked stunned but did not argue. “It would destroy her to know.” He swallowed but the stone did not dislodge. “Better that she believes he died in the purge.”

Their eyes met, the years of friendship between them creating understanding without further words. This was a terrible secret. The truth of what had become of a friend, a trusted brother, could only bring terrible pain. Obi-Wan asked him to share the load. One lie. A lifetime of lying. To spare a friend from agony. Bail looked down at Padme, unconscious and limp against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Wispy curls of hair brushed her face. His dark eyes fell to the bruising at her throat. A handprint of black, burst blood vessels below her skin.

No matter what they told her, Padme was going to suffer upon waking. Bail looked down at Leia in his arms. Possibility and hope, in a tiny, precious sleeping bundle. Luke squirmed in the crook of Obi-Wan’s elbow, making small, soft infant sounds as he endeavored not to fall asleep. Maybe someday the hope of an entire galaxy would rest on these children. “She’ll never learn of it from me. I swear to you.”

Satisfied, Obi-Wan nodded. There were, impossibly, more plans to be made. “Where are we?” he asked. They were away from Mustafar, he knew that, but that was all he knew. The memory of the ship in hyperspace was shrouded in pain and panic, in Padme’s life slipping through his fingers.

Bail accepted the shift in topic without comment. “We’re deep in the outer rim. Past Tatooine.” The comlink on the table trilled. “And we’re being hailed,” he murmured. Starting to raise the comlink to his face, he hesitated then held it out toward Obi-Wan and triggered the connection.

“Bail?” Ahsoka’s voice, tinny and echoing through the connection, but unmistakably hers. “We really should figure out some sort of code names.”

Obi-Wan felt relief like a flood rush through him. Coolness to balm the burn left inside from Mustifar. His breath released in a slow exhale. It felt like coming up from drowning. His first breath since leaving Anakin burning on the shore of the molten river.

Bail nodded quietly, prompting Obi-Wan to answer. “Ahsoka –“

Her eager rambling halted instantly. “Master –“ Her own breathing hitched. “Obi-Wan, is it really you? Where are you?” Without waiting for his answer, her next question. “What happened?” Her anguish was clear. Jedi or no Jedi, Ahsoka had clearly felt the purge through the Force.

With a look up at Bail, Obi-Wan choked out the words, “Anakin is dead.” From a certain point of view, it was true. The man they had known – his padawan, her master – was gone. As good as dead. What had taken his place – the being who had murdered their friend – was not Anakin Skywalker.

He could feel Ahsoka’s grief rise like a tide through their connection, a wave capable of drowning them both. He found there was nothing he could say to comfort her. Instead, he closed his eyes, seeing again the river on Mustafar. He took a breath and could smell the burnt flesh; the distinctly acrid scent of lightsaber burns cauterization. 

“Ahsoka, where can we rendezvous? We’ll lay in coordinates now.” Bail spoke and brought Obi-Wan out of it before he sank too far, before his grief revealed the circumstances of Anakin’s death to Ahsoka. Before she had been able to see the lie.

Ahsoka’s voice was raw with her efforts to control her emotions. She swallowed it down audibly and made her suggestion. Bail nodded, the hand that was not cradling Leia reaching to squeeze Obi-Wan’s slumped shoulder. “We’re laying in the course now,” he assured her. His eyes quietly searched the Jedi’s face for some reassurance he could not find before he moved away to speak to the captain. The baby curled in his arm was snuggled quietly against his side.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said quietly once Bail was gone, once it was just him and Padme’s unconscious form against his chest, Luke awake but quiet in his arm. Blue eyes stared up at him. “I have news. Good news.” She made a sound that may have been a laugh, or a sob. “Padme had her child. Her children. Twins.”

“Are they-?”

“Everyone is healthy. Just tired,” he assured her swiftly. “A boy and a girl.” He paused, debating. “They’re Anakin’s.” He sighed. “He and Padme - they were –“

“I know,” Ahsoka cut in gently. “I knew… before.”

Obi-Wan blinked, a fond, sad, small smile curling the corner of his mouth. Padme’s curls were brushing against his neck. He could feel the strength of her heartbeat against his chest. “Yes,” he said simply. “I had hoped –“ His voice trailed off, the smile fading away.

“They’re going to need us,” Ahsoka said into the quiet.

Obi-Wan looked down at the baby boy in his arm, the little boy with his father’s blonde hair and blue eyes. The little boy who blazed with life in the Force. He could feel the twin presence moving through the ship with Bail. Someday, he could feel it – the entire galaxy would need these children.


	2. Chapter 2

The story went that she had been shackled around the neck. That was the one Padme Amidala heard most often, at least. She pushed up her helmet’s faceplate up to allow air to reach her skin. Both hands reached up to lift the helmet free. Leaving the helmet hooked on her fingers, her other hand tugged the strap loose that held her armored jacket closed around her throat, rubbing two fingers across the underside of her jaw to relieve the tingling twinge that came from being able to draw a full breath. The touch settled momentarily on the dark shadow that dwelt beneath her jaw line. Remembering herself, she let her hand move back to clip her helmet to its place on her belt.

She could not remember what had caused the line of bruising that never faded. It had been there ever since Mustafar. Since Padme had woken up with gaps in her memories, Obi-Wan at her side and silent, his eyes unbearably sad.

The story the troops told was something no one would address with her directly, but she had heard enough rumors to put together a version of the story. A thick durasteel collar so wide and heavy that it had left behind marks that had yet to fade. Every few months, when the remnants of the black blood had failed to dissipate, the story would change again. Some new notion of Imperial torture that she had heroically survived, living to lead the fight, drawing more to the fledgling Rebellion with each new incarnation of the rumor.

She wanted it stopped, of course. Not so much to reveal the truth, but to focus the attention on someone else. For the sake of the twins, if for no other reason. Bail insisted it was what their growing insurrection needed – a figurehead, a symbol, hope. His argument was sound, she could admit – from former queen, to popular senator, currently underground leader of the Core Worlds’ resistance to the rising horror of the Galactic Empire. She made a good story.

“Mama! Mama!” Clattering footsteps echoed in the dimness, approaching fast.

Padme did not bother to bite back a smile, nodding to her troopers to go on without her. As they continued up the passage she heard the small voices greeting her soldiers, grunting and exhaling as they pushed through the fighters.

Leia was the first to clear the crowd, dark hair hanging loose in long tendrils down her back. “Mama!” Padme knelt to catch her, tiny arms squeezing her neck. “We missed you!”

Only a few steps behind Leia came Luke, hands already reaching for her. Padme’s arm caught him and she stood up. “Oof,” she grunted when Luke’s foot thumped her side, blonde hair covering his eyes as he climbed onto her back. “You holding on tight back there?”

His answer was a heavy head nestled against her shoulder and a soft sigh.

“Did Ahsoka wear you out today in training?” Padme asked Leia, walking after her troops toward the compound they called home.

Leia shook her head, only slightly less tired than her brother now that Padme could see her closely. “Obi,” she said simply, brown eyes blinking.

“He’s back, then?” Leia’s head nestled under her chin, nodding. Padme kept her thoughts to herself. The children might never understand the history between herself and the Jedi in hiding. It may be better that they did not. For the sake of their - She cut herself off, shaking her head as she started to walk.

The tunnel leading back to the base was dark, lit only sporadically, and low, barely tall enough for her to walk without hunching. The feeling of the ceiling directly overhead made her fight the urge to duck her head, no matter that she knew it would allow her to pass freely.

“Oh, Mistress -” Threepio pulled up short at the sight of her entering the main chamber. “The children -”

“Are sleeping,” she finished the statement, her voice low. Their breaths, twinned exhales and soft sighs, brushed against her neck. Their bodies, limp and heavy in sleep, confirmed it. They were getting too big to carry but she would do it for as long as she was able. The droid tottered into step beside her. “They got away from you again?”

He could not breathe but she heard the sigh he gave nonetheless. “The young Master and Mistress are most -” he hesitated, searching for a tactful word, “- energetic.” 

Padme smiled softly to herself. They certainly were. Like their father. The thought would not be stopped again. Her heart seized but it was a familiar ache. With the twins in her arms it was bittersweet.

“Like Master Ani,” Threepio finished. Her smile went brittle, but she did not speak, only nodded. When she kept silent he spoke up again. “Master Kenobi was hoping to speak to you.”

“And where is Obi-Wan?” Her voice sounded acidic even to her own ears but the droid did not acknowledge it.

“Waiting -” he cut off abruptly as the door slid sideways to allow them passage to the residential quarters. Round metal optics looked between the two figures and the droid turned without speaking to walk rigidly to his next duty. Even Threepio knew he was not needed here.

Obi-Wan stood leaning against the wall beside her door, stroking idly at his russet beard. His hair was longer than she had ever seen it, nearly past his shoulders, hanging over his face as he appeared to study the plate flooring between his boots. They were still dusty from wherever he had been last. His free hand pushed his hair back as he looked up to greet her. His mouth closed on her name when he spotted the twins’ gawky limbs hanging on each side of her.

“Let me help,” he said instead of a greeting. His voice was soft, his normal crisp accent a soft burr of itself. He looked tired. Obi-Wan always looked tired these days. Padme let his arm slip under Luke’s middle, sliding the gangly boy into his arms. Luke did not stir, only sighed and settled against Obi-Wan’s robes. It was better – that they did not know. They both adored Obi-Wan. And he would do anything for them. Padme knew that.

Padme thumbed the switch for her entryway, leading the way into the apartment she shared with the twins. “Here,” she guided him unnecessarily to the twins’ bunked beds. He knew who went where but followed quietly nonetheless. Padme’s eye caught on Obi-Wan as she stepped back from Leia’s lower bunk. He was leaning over Luke, softly adjusting the blanket he had tucked so carefully around her son.

Obi-Wan blinked when he straightened and caught her eye. “Padme -” His blue eyes fell almost unconsciously to her throat, the bruises there. She watched him swallow and scratch his beard again. Padme had tried to forget about the marks once they had finally healed as much as it appeared they ever would. When she had first seen them, first woken up and felt like she might never breathe again, she had seen a hand at her throat, the marks vivid, of fingers crushing the life from her, from the children. As they had aged and faded it had become vaguer, less clear and sure. Those first few days had been wrought with despair and grief. She told herself she could not have seen what she had thought.

When they were all much younger, Padme would have told anyone that Obi-Wan Kenobi would never, could never hurt her. Or Anakin. It was not possible. Beyond comprehension.

Before she had woken up with two babies and a dead husband. With only Obi-Wan’s story about what actually happened on Mustafar. Because the thing she believed in more than even Obi-Wan’s loyalty to Anakin was Anakin’s devotion to her. He would never hurt her. Not for any reason.

No matter what Obi-Wan said had happened. Anakin, her Anakin, would never hurt her. She knew it better than she knew anything else. So whatever had happened, it was not what Obi-Wan said. Padme wanted to trust him, the way she had before, but the feeling warred with the surety that Anakin could not be responsible for the bruises at her throat. It left her feeling fractured when Obi-Wan was around. He seemed to feel it too, choosing to limit the time he spent at the base, despite his clear desire to spend time with the twins.

The galaxy needed its last Jedi though, so the demands on his time were hardly false.

“Can we talk?” he asked, breaking the quiet with his soft request. “I wouldn’t ask, Padme, but -” Curling her arms around herself, she silenced him with a nod. 

The central chamber was dark and cold, the system turned to its minimum settings when she was on a mission. The kids never stayed in the apartment when she was away. They liked roughing it with Ahsoka in her quarters.

Ambient noise seemed to muffle the silence when she turned the system back on, the clicks and pops of heat moving through the vents. Obi-Wan did not speak, moving around the room instead. His hands were tucked behind his back and he studied the mismatch of datapads and children’s books and toys as if they were artifacts in a museum. A testament to a life he would never have.

“What is it?” Padme asked, suddenly tired beyond words.

He would not look at her, eyes trained on Luke’s training saber discarded on the floor. “Vader.”

A chill ran through her, fatigue burned away by something cold that coiled in her stomach. “Where?”

“In the system,” he answered, finally looking at her. He could not meet her eyes. “It is time to go. I fear it may be past time.” His voice was rough. “I’ve informed -”

“No!” Padme did not recognize her own voice for a moment, did not realize she had spoken. Her voice was raised and raw. “No.” The repetition was softer in volume, no less than steel in tone. “He killed Anakin.” Her eyes were blazing and dark. Obi-Wan’s face closed, mouth a thin line obscured by his beard. “He’s a monster.”

“Revenge is not -”

“We have a chance - “

They spoke over each other, Obi-Wan’s voice rising to meet the heat and volume of hers. He took a moment to try and calm himself. The effort was visible – his fingers stretching out straight and curling back, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and slow, measured exhale. “You don’t understand. There’s no chance -”

“There’s intelligence! We know where he is -”

Obi-Wan cut her off, slashing his hand through the air between them. It was a gesture the mild Jedi usually controlled. “There is no fighting Vader!” He shouted without meaning to be so loud. Padme blinked without wilting. Her shoulder remained squared. Obi-Wan sighed, shoulders rising and falling with the breath. He sounded choked but was quieter when he said, “Vader is death. There’s no defeating him.” He sought out her eyes. He did not breathe, did not blink. “Not for you, not for me.” Padme’s mouth fell open to argue without hesitation. “Not us, not yet.” His hand caught her shoulder. “It falls to us to protect them,” he reminded her, trying to be gentle.

Jerking herself away, Padme glowered. “My children are not weapons!”

“They’re our only hope -” Obi-Wan tried to reason.

She stiffened; her eyes narrowed. “Get out.” It was said quietly, calmly. “Now.”

Obi-Wan appeared to wilt, shoulders falling, hair hanging, while his tunic seemed empty, as if he took up less space than he had a moment before. “Padme -”

“They are not going to be weapons for the Jedi,” she promised ferociously. “You and I will both die before it happens.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan stepped back toward the door. He tucked his hands in his sleeves, shoulders curved under an invisible weight. “I swear it to you.” It was a solemn promise, delivered in a soft voice. His eyes met hers without wavering. Padme could see something else in his eyes and held her breath, waiting for whatever came next. Obi-Wan blinked and it was gone again, shadowed beneath whatever he would not say. “We aren’t ready for Vader. We have to run.”

Padme watched him leave, standing firm until the door slid closed behind him. Alone, she felt her frustration rise to choke her. She could not, would not, put the twins at risk. But for the first time in more than three years they had a chance to confront Anakin’s killer.

Without thought, she was moving. The door swiped open again at her touch. “Obi-Wan.” Only a few paces down the hall, he stopped. He turned halfway, looking at her over his shoulder. “Tell me we will get him.” Obi-Wan breathed slowly. His hair was hanging across his eyes. He pushed it back. “For Anakin,” Padme pressed him. “Promise me. For the Jedi, if that’s what it takes.”

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan reminded her. Padme’s face pulled, shuttered, and she started to withdraw. “For Anakin.” She froze, staring at him. They stared at each other in silence, as close to understanding as they had been able to reach since right after Mustafar. Obi-Wan nodded.

Padme nodded back and went to pack.

The frustration did not linger for long, too many other things to keep her mind busy. She had more immediate concerns but a corner of her mind, far from conscious thought, puzzled through her memories of that day on Mustafar. They felt oddly shaped and out of order, jumbled and lost in shadow and fog. She remembered the ship, flying herself to the lava planet after Obi-Wan’s allegation that Anakin had fallen to the dark side. She had landed safely. Threepio was there. They had been alone on the ship.

Had they not? Her mind turned it over, trying to remember clearly. She _thought_ she had been alone, she knew that much.

Anakin had been there, alive and in her arms, but those memories were dark, obscured by emotion and grief. No matter how she pushed and pulled at those moments in her mind she gained no clarity, only foreboding and shallow breath, a pounding heart. It was all darkness, flashes and feelings. Pain.

Obi-Wan and Bail Organa had been there when she had woken – on a different ship and traveling through hyperspace. Those memories were clearer but still fuzzy and opaque, as if seen through thick transparisteel.

The next time she had woken it was days later and the twins were there, curled in her arms. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and Bail were all making plans and Anakin was dead. The Republic was gone, warped and twisted and replaced by the Empire. Palpatine had manipulated the entire galaxy, playing the sides of the war against each other from the beginning, all for his own benefit. His Sith creature Vader had murdered Anakin.

No matter what else she knew or doubted, she knew that she would find the being who had killed her husband. With or without Obi-Wan’s help. She would do what she must.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is one of my favorites. Anyone reading who knows me personally will know why.

Luke Skywalker walked into his room to see his twin sister Leia tying off her long braid, swift fingers coiling it high on the back of her head, preparation for pulling her helmet on. He pulled up short, gripping the strap of his shoulder bag with both hands. “Where are we going?” He tugged the bag over his head, dropping it on his lower bunk. His jacket followed so that he could pull on the matching gray his sister wore.

“It’s just a supply run,” she said, already sounding bored with the idea. Their mother never let them go on missions. Not missions that mattered. Only food drops and disaster relief. And most of the time she insisted they only go on missions where Ahsoka or Obi-Wan were going.

Luke rolled his eyes, tousling his hair with one hand. They were both being trained in close range combat, as well as with blasters, but their mother had always been overly cautious. For someone working to orchestrate a galaxy-wide rebellion, Padme Amidala seemed painfully careful to her twins. Leia shrugged, familiar with her brother’s feeling about the tasks they were allowed to complete. It was a sentiment she shared.

For twins nearly ten years old, the abundance of caution chafed. 

Luke looked around for his helmet, grinning when Leia nudged it into sight with her boot. Her own helmet was a deep purple, the design uniform except for the bright splash of red where she had the Rebellion’s phoenix emblem emblazoned over the cog of the Empire’s insignia. On the other hand, Luke’s helmet was painted grey and orange, contrasting his sister’s but uniform enough on missions to keep them from being noticed. Anonymity was their biggest defense, according to their teachers.

“Where is this run going?” Luke asked as he leaned over to pick up his helmet. He spun it between his hands before tucking it under his arm.

Leia led the way out of their home, dodging immediately as a droid pushing a supply cart rolled past the entrance of their family apartment. She turned to follow it toward the hangar. She did not answer her brother but that did not stop him from following her. It had been weeks since they had been allowed off-world. He told himself that even a supply drop would be worth the trip. Luke grinned to himself. If it was an easy trip maybe he could convince Obi-Wan to let him fly on the way back.

The hanger was a hive of activity, supplies being packed into crates, droids making repairs, officers overseeing manifests and itineraries. The kids were familiar sights and they exchanged greetings as they ducked and weaved their way through the busy bay. Artoo rolled by, whistling to them as he passed, and Luke paused to listen. “Sure, we’re about to take off, but when we get back let’s look at that.”

Obi-Wan was overseeing droids loading a freighter and he smiled as the twins appeared, uncrossing his arms to hook an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “Are you two coming with us?” Luke just grinned hopefully. “Grab a crate and get aboard then,” Obi-Wan said warmly. “You got here just in time.”

Leia snagged the handle of a cargo mover and pushed, Luke extricating himself to help her. They heaved it up the ramp and into line with the rest of the provisions the shuttle carried. A load lifter droid parked a crate next to theirs and the twins followed back down the ramp.

Following his sister, Luke pressed the repulsor button on the next crate but was surprised when Leia just kept moving. She stepped around the back side of the large box and ducked, disappearing from view. When the box did not move, Luke poked his head around the corner of the container. Leia was already three crates away and moving quickly, low enough to keep herself from being spotted. Luke glanced over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, busy overseeing the loading of supplies, and moved to follow his twin. A grin spread across his face, eagerness quickening his steps.

Leia smirked when he reached her side, peeking around her to find their goal. She pointed to the open ramp of a cruiser, tilting her chin. Luke nodded, slipping his helmet over his head. Leia followed suit and checked their surroundings. They moved simultaneously, side by side across the shadow of a ship and up the ramp. The slope moved to close under Luke’s boots, bringing the twins up with it as it sealed. They darted into a vacant crew quarter as the ship lifted off, watching the passage only until they felt the jump to lightspeed.

“Where are we going?” Luke asked eagerly. His training saber was on his belt and he toyed with the clasp. “A battle?”

Leia scoffed behind her helmet. “Mom would kill us.”

“Then where? Not just a supply run,” he reasoned. If it were that simple they could have just gone with Obi-Wan.

Leia brushed a hand against the hilt of her saber. “Just a recon follow-up.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Nothing too exciting happening. But they have to go into town so we’ll have some time.”

“It gets us off base,” Luke said, pleased. If their mother or Obi-Wan realized where they were they would be confined to base for the foreseeable future but now, in the moment, it felt like an easy choice to make.

The hop was a short one that felt longer for the twins’ quiet waiting. The time stretched and pulled like a tension band as they each listened intently for the cruiser to drop back into real space. Leia sat on the musty crew bunk, but Luke walked the short distance of the room. His hand fidgeted with his training saber restlessly. Even in the aftermath of the mission at least there would be a change of scenery, a change of pace for the twins.

Luke understood, he really did, that the galaxy was at war. He knew that their mother was a central figure in the Rebellion against the galactic Empire. He knew that put them in indirect danger at any time, that grew direct and more sharply focused when the Empire got close to tracking them down. But the tension of constant vigilance could not be held for months and years. Sometimes Padme had to let her children be children and have some small adventures. With Obi-Wan or Ahsoka at hand if she was unavailable.

There was no chance he would need to use it for anything serious, but Luke could not help palming the grip of his weapon. His fist closed around it when they felt the ship descend back into the blackness of space. Leia was calm in appearance, leaning back against her braced arms on the bunk, waiting patiently for the ship to land and the Rebels on board to disembark. Until then, they could go nowhere.

It was accomplished in what felt like much faster time than the hyperspace jump, the twins ready to move as the heavy echo of boots faded. They waited an extra minute before Luke triggered the ramp. It was bright on the planet, in the middle of the local day cycle, but their helmets filtered the blinding sunlight so they did not have to squint. Leia made sure to close the ramp behind them but did not reengage the security measures. They would need to move as soon as they saw the pilots returning to get back into their hiding spot before takeoff.

It was a lush green world that they had landed on, native animal life noisy in the trees all around them. The air was damp and moist but it felt light and cool rather than muggy or hot. Luke jogged around the ship, eager to see if there were any more interesting prospects close by than the simple, familiar cruiser they had come on. The rebel ship was parked on the far end of what looked to be a relatively isolated landing pad, so Luke was able to wander over to inspect a Firespray-31 on the next pad before he returned to the lander legs where Leia was practicing combat forms with her saber.

Luke grinned behind his mask as she finished, pulling his hilt loose from his belt. “Spar?” he asked, his voice low. Their helmet comms were linked to each other’s and he did not want his sudden voice to startle his sister. He should have known better, whipping his blade up to parry the jab she directed at him without hesitation. “Hey!”

Leia’s playful laugh echoed through their comlink and he danced backward to avoid the next series of attacks. She did not spare him any of her speed and he met her with his own ability. They trained together most often now that they had mastered the basics, with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka traveling frequently, so they knew each other’s strength, speed, and style. When Luke feinted, he knew what Leia would do to counter, deflecting his blade and swiping low to conserve her own momentum. He jerked his body backwards, able to feel her blade nearly brush the middle of his tunic. He whooped with excitement, unable to help himself. It echoed between the trees. The light of the sun danced between high, distant leaves overhead, making liquid green shadows that moved between their feet.

Their match ended in a draw, as it so often did, and they split a ration pack in the shade of the trees nearest the ship. They were breathing hard, sweating from their exertions, and they pulled their helmets off to enjoy the breeze moving around them. It stirred the leaves overhead and Leia leaned back to look up at the sky. Luke looped his arms over his knees, chewing slowly on his ration. Sweat was drying in his hair and on his skin and it sent a pleasant chill through his warm muscles when the breeze touched the back of his neck.

The wind picked up some stray leaves, making them twitch. Luke focused, his efforts suspending one of the leaves in stasis while the others moved at the whim of the air. One of his hands rose and another pair of leaves began orbiting the first central leaf. Sitting up, Leia watched without speaking. Her own hand lifted and a flurry of spinning twigs joined his efforts to form a tiny dervish of their own making.

Each concentrating, they spared a smile for each other. To Luke, Leia’s presence felt like air, fresh and powerful, inexorable and unstoppable, from the smallest breath of wind to a hurricane. He breathed in deep, smile growing. Their cyclone lifted, gaining height and speed. Leia obliged without missing a beat, some things slowing to a stop while others moved faster. It felt like creation, a galaxy of their own making.

Leia laughed, eager and powerful, serious but joyful. Luke did not resist the growing grin that tugged at his mouth. Control, Obi-Wan reminded them frequently. Their Force abilities started with control over themselves. Together, the things they could do surprised even their teachers.

They were in the shade but they both noticed when the shadow of a ship crossed overhead. Luke looked up and their practice faltered, pieces dropping back to the ground. Leia pulled her helmet on without hesitation when the engines smoothly began lowering the new arrival in for a landing. The steep angles and stark lines sent a chill through them both that had nothing to do with the wind kicked up by the descending thrusters.

Luke got to his feet, his helmet in his hand, unsure exactly what to do. They may be seen if they moved toward the ship, but if they stayed where they were under the trees they risked being left behind if the Rebels needed to leave swiftly. He looked over his shoulder but Leia’s helmet offered no advice. Her hand was on her saber’s hilt. Luke shoved his helmet over sweaty hair, ducking low again to watch as the ship landed.

The angle was fortunately pointed away from them when the ship started to open its ramp and Luke ran for their transport, one hand on his saber and one around Leia’s wrist. They moved quickly, at an angle, as close to the shadows as they could get. They reached the shade of their own ship as the ramp of the new ship touched the planet’s surface. The Imperial cog was emblazoned in black on the side of the ship’s bladelike wings.

“When we get an opening, one of us has to get on board and send the distress call,” Leia said, her voice steady as it came through the receiver in his helmet. Luke nodded shortly. Across the landing strip two columns of white-armored troopers marched out. A dark shade appeared at the top of the ramp, black as night and billowing like a thunderstorm.

Leia gasped at the sight of the being. Luke barely heard it over the pounding of his heart inside his head. It was not the utter blackness of the uniform they could see that made his breath catch in his throat. It was the absolute absence of light they could feel lashing inside the armor. It was a presence unlike anything they had ever felt before.

Each person he knew had a feel. Something unique that identified them, that was integral to themselves. This person was pain. Darkness. Despair like nothing he had ever known. Luke knew instinctively that they could not be captured by this creature of rage. To be caught would be their deaths and the deaths of everything they loved.

“When the moment comes, you go for the ramp,” he said softly into his communicator. “I’ll keep them back.”

Leia’s breath caught again in his ear but she did not argue, only squeezed his shoulder with one hand. The other passed her saber over to him. Luke felt his spine go solid. If he failed or fell his sister was weaponless. Her life was in his hands. And so he would not fail.

The troopers worked their way methodically across the landing platform, starting with the ships closest to them. Watching while they inspected the first ship, they waited only as soon as the second ship’s inspection was underway. The twins took their chance to lower their ship’s ramp, Leia dashing up the angle as quickly as a thought. Luke remained under the shadow of the landing struts, watching the white helmets move and turn. None of them looked in his direction.

The dark one, though. The black helmet seemed to swivel in slow motion to lock its gaze on him. Everything inside Luke Skywalker seemed to shrivel, shrinking and dissolving as if pieces of himself were falling away under the unblinking blackness inside the other gaze. Luke felt swept up, pulled away from himself under the rising pressure of the staring mask. He knew instinctively that the being in the helmet hated him with a completeness, a righteousness, that struck him like a blow. It would be so easy to drown in such darkness. Luke swayed on his feet.

Light blazed around him suddenly, like a sun bursting up over the horizon. Slowly and then all at once. Not physically, he was still shrouded under the shadow of the ship, but through his mind and spirit. _Leia._ His connection to his sister was stronger than any darkness. Luke gripped each lightsaber hilt in his hands and moved forward toward the edge of the shadows. Toward the sunlight.

Across the landing pad, the black armored figure was moving inexorably toward their ship in a straight line, as if Leia’s light had confirmed something he had only just suspected until the instant she had made herself known to help her brother. He moved swiftly despite his size, the heavy tread of his boots on the ground seeming as though they should echo or shake the planet.

Luke moved to a spot directly between their ship and the incoming figure, each saber tight in his grasp. He activated them both as he felt the shuttle behind him warming up. He just had to give Leia time to get in the air. That was all.

The figure opposite him activated a blade that burned startling crimson, moving toward their confrontation with increasing speed.

Behind Luke the shuttle’s engine pushed wind around. He thought for a brief instant of their practice with the leaves. Shaking it from his head, he readied both blades. His own burned blue, Leia’s green. The colors were familiar, comforting.

The wind picked up; the engine’s growling higher pitched as the ship neared takeoff velocity.

Luke blinked and the shadow was on him. It took every bit of his strength to hold back the red blade. He could feel the hunger in it, the driving force that wanted him dead and bleeding at the shade’s feet.

“You’re strong, young one.” The voice was mechanical and deep, not human. Up close he could hear the respirator working. “It was unwise to show yourself to me.”

Luke shoved back, their blades crackling and sparking as they struggled. One blade deflected a downward chopping blow and he risked swiping with the other. His enemy fell back, mechanical laughter mocking and dark.

“Very good. You have spirit.” As he spoke, he redoubled his offensive. “Who is your teacher, boy?” Luke gritted his teeth, stabbing this time with the underhanded blade. The shadow avoided it without missing a beat or a breath. Luke’s brief attempt at an offensive was easily handled. “The master will have to be destroyed, but a youngling -” He seemed to pause, savoring the moment. “I could use you. Teach you things you have never dreamed of. Together -”

Luke realized two things simultaneously – that this fight was over the second the wielder of the red blade desired it, and that whoever was behind the mask had sensed Leia’s energy and his own without realizing that there were two of them. A chill ran through him, from his deepest core outward in a blast that made him quiver. If this monster wanted to make him like _that_ , what would he do if he knew there was not just one, but two potential prizes within his grasp?

With a shout, he scrambled away, straining to put distance between them. A mistimed block sent a shock through his arm and he jerked his hand back. Leia’s saber dropped to the dirt, sparking from a rend in the metal. Its blade extinguished. 

A shadow overhead threw the battle into sudden darkness, leaving the combatants wreathed in the light of their blades. A ship, blocking out the sun. It dropped down recklessly fast, its open sides revealing Rebel combat troops hanging from the sides of the carrier. It stopped its decent with only a meter to spare before it would have crashed. Blasterfire erupted from all sides.

“Get to the ship!” barked a trooper, blasting at something behind Luke. “Go!”

Confused, he turned to look around. The Rebels were picking off stormtroopers as quickly as they were able and Luke heard the roar of his enemy from the far side of the troop carrier.

“Luke!” Leia yelled his name from the ramp of their shuttle, already a meter off the ground and rising slowly. “Come on!”

He could still hear the buzzing of the red blade through the din of the battle. He turned helplessly as if he would be able to see the black armor through the press of Rebel troops. What he saw instead was his mother’s narrow frame, her familiar brown helmet, faceplate turned toward him. Her rifle was pressed to her shoulder and she returned fire without looking at her targets.

Raising his saber, Luke saluted, and ran.

Behind him, Padme turned back to her scope and drew a bead straight into the soulless black mask of Darth Vader. Just as the ship carrying her children closed its ramp and started to speed for atmosphere, she fired.


	4. Chapter 4

Leia Skywalker felt a stone digging into her leg, but she did not move. Dirt shifted, falling down the collar of her jacket but she barely breathed, drawing on the Force to steady herself. She did not need to move. Did not need more breath than what she pulled in slowly through her nose. She had everything she needed through the Force.

The blaster in her grip was cool to the touch, waiting and ready like the rest of her. The plan was a good one. The trap set. All that was left was to let it spring.

A pair of speeders slid into the canyon, both riders clad in black. Fifth Brother and Seventh Sister. Exactly like they had planned. Intelligence had been hard to come by, but it had become something of Leia’s obsession in the months since Luke had faced down Vader to near disaster.

They had heard the name before of course, whispered among the pilots, said in hushed tones between Ahsoka and Obi-Wan just before the twins entered a room, heard it cursed by their mother. _Vader._ But the experience of him, seeing the death’s head mask he wore, feeling the deep cavern of his soul for herself, knowing that he was searching for them and people like them – it had started Leia down a path.

Hunting the hunters.

Research had been rumors and what felts like myths. Someone whose sibling, cousin, co-worker, had seen something or heard of someone who had seen something of red-blade wielding Force users. Through the false leads and fake stories Leia had learned to track the real thing. The Inquisitorius. Hunters dispatched by Vader for a single purpose. To hunt down and destroy what Jedi remained.

Down in the valley below her, the Inquisitors had pulled up to a halt. They had found the bait she had left for them. Bait in the form of a Jedi. Standing in the middle of the far exit of the canyon in a deep cowl and heavy robes. Arms tucked inside the sleeves in front. Weapon invisible.

It had not taken much to draw in the Inquisitors. Just allowed the hints, the rumors of activity by a being with Force abilities, carrying something that may have been a lightsaber, to escape the system, to draw in a wider audience than they usually allowed. They had come, exactly as Leia had known they would. Some beings, under this Imperial rule, fled from rumors of a Jedi who had escaped the purge. The hunters drew in while others ran. Drove their speeders right into the middle of a net.

Across the canyon from Leia was Luke, crouched down on one knee with his scanners at his face, his saber already in the other hand but not ignited. Her gaze slid to the cresting rise over their heads at the very mouth of the gap where she knew her mother was hidden from view. She knew that every one of them was in Padme’s sight though. Through the scope of her precisely tuned rifle.

Down in the lowlands, the Inquisitors had dismounted their bikes and were moving forward on foot toward the confrontation. Leia made sure her helmet was on firmly, shifting forward infinitesimally. It was not time to be seen yet. She could feel Luke’s eagerness, his impatience, through the Force. From the look of things on the ground he would not be forced to wait long. The Inquisitors were moving faster as they drew closer to the hooded figure waiting for them.

“Jedi!” The call echoed up the sheer stone walls. The snap of sabers bursting into scarlet life made a glowing target on the ground far below the watching twins. The figure in the cowl was waiting, took two long steps forward and relaxed their arms, shaking out their hands. A saber appeared in each hand. Leia could not see it but she knew there was a smile growing on the face beneath the hood.

“I am no Jedi,” Ahsoka Tano said calmly, tossing her head to make the dark hood fall back from her montrails. Her grin widened and she snapped her own sabers on. The pure white light from her blades made the red look weak and wavering. The Inquisitors, brother and sister if the rumors were to be believed, looked at each other but did not stop moving forward. Ahsoka did not hesitate, sweeping her blades into defensive positions.

Leia watched from above, her muscles tight and her heart skipping. This was her plan. Her idea. But she was not the one in the range of murderers’ blades. Ahsoka was her father’s Padawan though, and she was not afraid. _Anakin Skywalker._ Her father. Killed by Vader – the monster who could have killed Luke. She scanned the canyon floor, back toward the entrance and away from the fight. A shadow was moving away from the cliff side, hunched and dark and dirty. With every step he straightened though, throwing his robe behind him as he ran to join the fight. Obi-Wan Kenobi, in a sand-colored tunic and pants, tall boots, and sweeping auburn hair. Everything a Jedi should be. The only remaining true Jedi Knight.

The Inquisitors were not ready for the last Jedi.

Seventh Sister caught sight of a flicker of a shadow, barely turning in time to catch Obi-Wan’s blade against her own. She growled a warning to the Fifth Brother but he was fighting for his life against Ahsoka, his round handled blade spinning in a frantic defense. They attempted to stay back-to-back, protecting each other, but the onslaught was relentless.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were ready for that maneuver and worked in tandem to separate their targets.

Watching them from the cliff side, Leia was struck by the way the two of them fought together. They did not need to speak or shout. One moved and the other was already reacting, moving to make a space, to fill a gap, or defend a side. It spoke of how long they had been watching each other’s backs. Leia knew their story, more or less. Her father’s Master and Apprentice. Side by side through the war that had ended with the destruction of the Jedi. Ended with her father’s death.

Obi-Wan spun through the air, his blade rotating with him. The Brother was overmatched on the defensive, every bit of his concentration on keeping himself from the blue blade before him. He caught Obi-Wan’s saber against his red one, but it was all he could do to hold it from him. They were locked in stasis for one single moment. Will against will. With one clearly the stronger. The Brother growled, gnashing his teeth at the Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan did not flinch, did not blink, only smirked and nodded.

The shot was executed perfectly, straight through the thick shoulder of the hunter held steady in resistance against his own doom. He fell with a scream. His Sister, if that is what she really was, did not spare a glance, fighting for her own life. The Brother tried to stand, extending his rapidly spinning blade to assist him with rising. It fell to pieces, bisected by Kenobi’s own strike, and he collapsed back to the stone ground with a beam of blue keeping him down.

Leia moved, starting to pick her way down the narrow path toward the base. A glance across to where Luke should have been mirroring her progress showed that he was already a dozen yards ahead of her and moving fast. This was part of the plan, the twins not a defensive line – their mother had absolutely forbidden it – but the goal was in sight. The fight would be over before they reached the base of the cliffs where they had watched. Leia looked over at Luke again to see him using his Force abilities to augment jumps, leaping down with surprising swiftness. Leia grinned, eager to master the technique herself. She felt bolstered by their success.

Another scream seemed to echo through the canyon and Leia stumbled on her landing, wheeling for a wild moment on the edge before she caught herself and stabilized. Looking down, she could see more clearly the scene below. Ahsoka’s white blades, both of them, extending through the Sister’s body, the Brother still stricken on the ground with Obi-Wan’s blade at his throat. His mouth was still opened in the roar of rage or pain, blood streaking down his shoulder, his back, pooling around his prone body.

Leia hesitated but Luke was already on the ground. They were at war, she told herself. The Inquisitors would kill them. There was no reasoning with the hunters who sought nothing but the destruction of the Jedi. This whole encounter had been for one purpose. To keep them safe. By eliminating the threat.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Leia nodded only to herself and kept moving to join her brother on the ground.

Ahsoka had used Obi-Wan’s discarded robe to at least cover up the body by the time the twins reached the group and was inspecting the remnants of the Brother’s ruined lightsaber. “You could have cut this finer,” she noted to Obi-Wan sarcastically, tone dry.

Obi-Wan did not respond to the attempt at humor, still holding his blade on the defeated Brother. His eyes tracked the twins as they joined Ahsoka for a brief second before returning his attention to the Inquisitor. “Can it be salvaged?”

Ahsoka turned the broken pieces over in her hands, holding it up so that she could peer between parts ripped apart. Luke jogged up to stand at her elbow, eager to inspect the new piece of tech. She angled it so he could see more clearly. “It looks busted,” he said doubtfully. Ahsoka handed him the piece and shifted her attention to another section.

Ahsoka shook the next piece and they could hear something rattle inside. Leia put her hand up quickly, catching the crystal that dislodged and fell. Luke’s mouth dropped open. Leia grinned, looking up at Ahsoka eagerly. “That will do,” the Togruta murmured, nodding. She picked it up between two fingers. It was dark, cold to the touch. Kyber was usually warm. But this Kyber was not healthy, was not whole. Her gaze slid to Leia. Leia had not taken her eyes off the stone, appeared to be holding her breath. “Hold onto that,” she instructed Leia, watching her slip it into the supply case on her belt.

They paused at the sound of a speeder approaching at high speed. The sharp growl of the engine seemed to come from everywhere, echoing and bouncing from walls and stones. It made it impossible to determine exactly where the vehicle was. One second it sounded high and far off, then low and close. Only Leia happened to be looking in the right direction to see the speeder launch over the side of the cliff, arching down toward them with unerring aim. A dark shape stood impossibly on top of the careening vehicle, cape flapping in the wind of the fall, sun reflecting off the angles and dome of the helmet.

“Run!” she screamed, and they obeyed. Her heart was pounding but her head felt clear. Vader was here. They had overstepped. Her plan had failed. In trying to end the pursuit, she had brought Vader down on them again. Because of her, they could die.

Ahsoka stayed a step behind the fleeing twins, pulling her cowl over her head as she moved. An anonymous Jedi running from the scene would be a better result than Ahsoka Tano being discovered alive. Her death had already been reported, her Jedi lightsabers left behind with Rex’s false grave. Her duty now was to keep the children from death at Vader’s hands. Or worse than death – enslavement or apprenticeship. Obi-Wan kept pace with her, his own hooded robe left behind in the dirt.

The speeder hit the ground, exploding fantastically. Leia risked a glance over her shoulder to see Vader marching through the flames, untouched and utterly unconcerned. He set his pursuit in a steady walk. He was inexorable, unstoppable, and he would seek them without pause. Obi-Wan caught her shoulders with both hands when she stumbled. “Run!” He set her back on her feet and pushed her onward. Leia went only as far as to catch Ahsoka’s hand. Luke was only a few paces ahead of them, hesitating. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes caught them all while he seemed to make a choice. “Ahsoka, protect them.” His pace slowed and Ahsoka matched him naturally. “I’ll keep him back for as long as I can. But you must –“ His breath caught in his chest. “-get the twins and Padme off this planet. Take them away from him.”

Ahsoka frowned, serious and intense, but she did not argue. Leia and Luke went stiff, staring at him. “Obi-Wan, you can beat him. You know the rendezvous. We will pick you up.”

His face was stoic. He said only, “Ahsoka, may the Force be with you. Always.”

Her voice sounded thick and strained. “Yes, Master.” She had not called him that in so many years. “May the Force be with you.” 

Staring at the only father figure she had ever known Leia felt her fear shift. It was not fear of Vader anymore. Now it was for Obi-Wan. She felt the sensation, the emotion, like a crystal in her chest, a solid thing that rested just under her heart, solid and cold. It did not make her want to cower though. It made her want to fight. To stand by his side in the face of whatever fate was coming.

“Run, Leia, run, Luke,” Obi-Wan said, nodding to them. “You are our last hopes. The Force will always be there for you. As I will be,” he promised solemnly. “Run,” he said again softly. Leia could see him only as a sandy blur through her tears, but she nodded and did as he said.

Tears in their eyes, they obeyed, Leia hanging onto Ahsoka’s arm with a fierce hold. Obi-Wan watched them run without moving. As they reached the distant horizon, he saw the shuttle they had arrived on swoop in low for a pickup. They would get away.

Obi-Wan knew what was coming. Vader. Once Anakin Skywalker. He was the only one who knew the truth of the man behind the monstrous mask. Maybe he had been wrong all these years, keeping it from Ahsoka, from Padme. If any two people deserved to know, it was them. His gaze fell on the fleeing twins, remembering the fear in their eyes at Vader’s approach. If any two people deserved to not have to bear the burden of Anakin’s fate, it was his children. He had done what he had thought was best. It was much too late for regrets or misgivings. Much too late for many things.

He had some time, Vader still walking at the same measured pace. Obi-Wan remembered suddenly one of his last memories of Qui-Gon, between the energy gates of the Naboo reactor, meditating while he waited for his fight with Maul to resume. Obi-Wan knelt on hard stone, feeling the sunbaked heat of it beneath him. He breathed in, breathed out, felt the Force respond to his silent call. It was present. With him as it had always been. Voices whispered to him from beyond, as if thinking of Qui-Gon had somehow summoned him to this place and time. Time and fate fell away until it was him and the Force, together as one.

He opened his eyes when he finally heard the measured breathing behind him and rose to his feet. His saber was in his hand.

“Kenobi.”

The last Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, turned to face his fate. “Anakin…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to update yesterday, whoops.

Ahsoka breathed in, held it for a beat, then let the breath out again. She had no formal mechanic’s training, nor the natural aptitude that her master Anakin had possessed, but sabers seemed to speak to her in a way few other machines did. Though a Jedi’s lightsaber was no mere machine. Scattered pieces lay on the worktable in front of her, but she did not touch them, only turned the Kyber between her fingers.

They were moving bases, again, and the feel of the motion in the halls, the quiet frantic edge that tinged everything that moved within the Rebel base, was palpable through the Force. She needed to join them, to gather her few belongings and prepare for the task she would soon embark on, but this time mattered. And so she waited.

A quiet knock on her door brought her eyes up. Ahsoka put the stone carefully on the table before she spoke. “Come in.”

Leia peeked in curiously, head and shoulder appearing before the rest of her slid into the room. “Luke said you asked for me.”

Ahsoka inclined her head, smiling softly. “Do you still feel it?” She watched Leia’s dark eyes drop to the stone on the table. Leia took a step toward it, involuntary. “Pick it up,” Ahsoka prompted, her voice soft. “What do you feel?”

Breathing in and out, she considered before she spoke, words chosen carefully. “Hurt.” She turned it over between her fingers. Dark eyes never moved from the stone. “Cold.” Leia blinked, holding the stone up to the light. “Shadow,” she declared softly. “But it’s only cracked, not broken,” she decided, finally looking at Ahsoka to see the response her answer had garnered.

“You’re right,” the former Jedi agreed. “I believe you can make it whole again.”

Leia blinked again, eyes wide. “Me? But you -”

Smiling, Ahsoka shook her head. “This stone does not call to me the way that it calls to you. To make or break the stone is your task.” Stray curls rose from the braids wound carefully at the base of the girl’s neck as Leia ducked her head. It made her look her age for once and it struck Ahsoka fresh that she was looking at Anakin’s _child_. Only ten, but with the weight of planets across her shoulders.

Those shoulders rose and squared as Leia lifted her head again. “How do I reach it? How can I help it?” She sought only guidance. The determination to see it through was there in her eyes, in the set of her brow, her jaw.

Ahsoka ached inside, the memory of Anakin like a blow. His loss – and Obi-Wan’s – together like a limb that had been ripped away. She swallowed it down, forcing the sensation back into the tiny corner of herself where her grief lived.

“Join me,” she coaxed, crossing her legs and resuming her meditation posture. Leia mirrored her, settling the stone in the cupped palm of her hand. “Just focus on the crystal. Feel how it rages but do not let the emotions overpower you. You’re in control, Leia.”

Leia nodded, concentrating with her eyes narrowed at the crystal. “It feels – heavy,” she said almost sadly.

Ahsoka knew immediately exactly what she meant. Watching, Ahsoka remembered her own crystals and the discovery of her stones tainted and warped by the dark side. She remembered what it had been for her to connect with the Kyber and heal it.

Leia's presence was an eddy, swirling around them in the Force. As her connection grew, it felt like the movement of the universe. Ahsoka reached out with her own senses and felt her breath escape her chest in a rush. It was incredible. Like witnessing some feat, some miracle – birth, and creation. A star, a nova, the first step of something that would shake and shape the galaxy. 

The echoes of Anakin were inescapable. Ahsoka let it sweep her away, familiarity making something warm swell and grow inside her chest.

When it passed, the notion of time was slow to return. Sounds came first, distant klaxons sealed beyond Ahsoka's door. The brush of recycled air through the base's ventilation system against her damp skin. Ahsoka shook her head to shift her montrails. Sweat beaded and the chill made her shiver with a sense of relief and delight. Light, glowing softly from within Leia's cupped hands, made itself known as she moved and Ahsoka opened her eyes.

Leia had her eyes squeezed closed; fists clenched around the glowing crystal. "Did it work?" she asked without opening her eyes.

Ahsoka smiled to herself. "What do you feel?" She felt it herself perfectly. Where there had been darkness there was light. What had been pain was now promise. With this stone in her grasp, Leia could do anything. With this saber in her hand, she would lead.

Leia opened her eyes and breathed out. She opened her hand, and a smile grew. "It's mine. It's whole." An eagerness rose in her and Ahsoka recognized it fondly. "What's next?"

Ahsoka's supplies were scrap, refuse and recycling of spare pieces and odds and ends. Nothing like the fully stocked workbenches they had had at the temple. But Leia would elevate whatever she was given. Undoubtedly.

Leia lit up at the sight of the pieces Ahsoka unveiled from her workbench. "What speaks to you?" Ahsoka asked. She rose to her feet to stretch, observing as Leia began picking through the components.

The hilt came together as if the sections had been destined to form this weapon by the Force. The emitter was narrow, elongated and angled at the top. The grip was smooth, only textured at the base where her hand would rest to wield it. The switch was a particularly clever creation, nearly invisible but responsive to the lightest touch of its mistress.

When the crystal snapped in, Ahsoka held her breath as she watched Leia stand up straight and tall, holding her saber in both hands and trigger the blade. Brilliant gold light filled the chamber, the blade smooth and steady.

Ahsoka’s breath let go. It was a sight she knew she would never forget.

Leia stared into the blade in wonder for a long moment, a satisfied smile growing across her face. “The color -” she started, tearing her gaze away from it hesitantly.

“It’s yours,” Ahsoka confirmed. The most common blade colors were blue and green, it was true. But this was no average blade, no common crystal. She lifted the hilt of her own saber and snapped it on, the white light of her own blade washing out the golden glow to make the room’s light hazy and soft. “Things are not the way they were. You know that.” Her breath caught unexpectedly. She had walked away from the Jedi Order so long ago. The reality of their destruction still caused a knot to ache inside her chest. Leia looked up at her, face serious and stern. Ahsoka felt her breath return slowly. The girl would be a leader. It was written in her blood. A fact as indisputable as her name. “We are forging a new path forward.” With their new blades to light the way. Leia nodded, looking like her mother before the Empire.

Ahsoka took a step back, letting her blade spin slowly. The light danced and Leia smiled, twirling her own blade. Ahsoka swung her saber in a slow arc, giving Leia ample time to catch the blade against her own. The clash was the familiar lightning crash. They both grinned, excitement growing.

At Ahsoka’s nod, Leia launched the next attack, their blades bouncing and deflecting the way they should. When Leia caught her saber with her own, Ahsoka stepped forward, testing the blade’s defense. “Very good,” she praised, nodding again. They shut their blades off simultaneously.

Leia was hardly winded, but she executed a formal bow instinctively, exactly as she had learned from her instructor. Obi-Wan’s absence sent a pang through Ahsoka that she saw echoed on Leia’s features. The fierce victory of her expression fell into shadowed grief.

“Go get your brother. When we evacuate, make sure you ride up on my shuttle,” Ahsoka directed her. The klaxons still blared, and time was growing short. There would be time on the jump to talk.

Leia’s intrigue was hooked but she did not ask questions the way Luke would have. She only nodded. “Meet you at the bay?”

Ahsoka inclined her head in agreement, montrails falling forward. “I will make sure your mother knows you are riding with me.” The door triggered as Leia stepped back toward it. “You did well,” Ahsoka said softly. “We will put it to good use,” she promised as Leia looked over her shoulder. 

When the door closed behind her the silence felt heavy and thick. An idea, stupid and foolish, quietly lingering in the back of her mind. Watching Leia build her saber, the promise of a powerful Jedi fulfilled, moving every day toward her destiny, made the idea sprout and grow. The tendrils of thought were like roots squirming and burying themselves in her mind. The Rebellion was not contingent on any single person. Not Bail Organa, not Mon Mothma, not even Padme Amidala herself. Not even the greatest Jedi of his age – Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The Rebellion was about overthrowing the hostile regime of the Emperor, about restoring the Republic that had been so corrupted and ruined. The Jedi Order, though, was something else. Separate from the government in a way that they had not been before. To restore the Jedi, they would need their knight.

The comlink at her belt chirped, drawing Ahsoka from her thoughts. “Tano here.”

“Ahsoka –“ The klaxons were louder wherever in the base Padme was, making it hard to hear her. “They’re here.” It came through clearly enough and Ahsoka’s spine went stiff. “The twins –“ Static erupted on the line, drowning out the rest of her plea but Ahsoka knew without hearing it.

The best hope for both the Rebellion as well as the future of the Jedi was the Skywalker twins. With Obi-Wan… gone – it was Ahsoka’s duty to get the two younglings as far from the Imperial pursuit as she could.

Already prepping for evacuation, Ahsoka just had to shove the remains of Leia’s lightsaber construction into the nearest open bag and sling it over her shoulder. There was nothing she was leaving behind that she could not replace.

The crowded tunnels were moving swiftly in the direction of the hangar and Ahsoka joined the flow of foot traffic. Panicked murmurs were traveling even faster than their feet, the sound growing louder. Fear was palpable. The feel of it in the Force left an acrid taste in Ahsoka’s mouth. She breathed out in relief upon squeezing past a Twilek and her child and into the hangar. It was no less busy or crowded but more spacious, allowing her more room to move swiftly.

She spotted Artoo’s familiar blue and white and whistled sharply for him. Threepio was right on his counterpart’s heel and turned as quickly as he was able to follow the astromech when the shorter droid turned toward Ahsoka. “You two are coming with us,” she directed them, raising her voice to be heard in the busy bay.

Her shuttle was near the middle of the hangar, ramp down, and she broke into a run as it came into view. The thrust of a ship taking off overhead pushed her back just slightly, but she reached the ramp. “Leia! Luke! Are you here?”

A clatter of feet on the bulkheads made the rest of her breath escape in a rush. 

“What’s going on?” Luke asked, breathless himself. The droids joined them inside the ship, Artoo rolling past to check the launch preparations.

Crackling from her comlink drew all their attention, Leia only a half-step behind her brother. “Padme?” Ahsoka snapped into the link. “Padme!”

“Mom?” Luke questioned, stepping closer. His hands found Ahsoka’s wrist, pulling the comlink closer to himself. Ahsoka could feel the tremble that went through him. “Mom?!” His voice was louder when the only response was crackling and broken up.

“What’s happening?” asked Leia, her voice thin. Ahsoka looked over to see the girl’s grip hard on her lightsaber’s hilt.

Ahsoka considered, moderating her breath carefully before she answered. Thankfully, she could hear the engines already cycling, the deck beneath their feet vibrating with energy gathering for takeoff. “The Empire found us. They’re already here.” She reluctantly shook her head. “Your mother called me. I’m going to get the two of yo –“

“No,” Leia objected, stronger than her question. “You have to get Mom.” Straightening up beside her, Luke looked between his sister and their teacher but did not speak. His mouth was a narrow line. “We can get the ship away,” she insisted. “But you have to get Mom.” Her dark eyes found Ahsoka’s steadily. “You wanted to talk about rescuing Obi-Wan,” she said insightfully. She let the moment linger. It had not needed saying. Rescuing Obi-Wan was what they all wanted. A mission into the teeth of the Empire. Straight down the throat of their enemy. All for a man who may already be dead. Looking at Leia, she knew the two of them would not hesitate to go if she asked it of them. “We can’t lose her too,” she said simply.

Ahsoka waited only long enough to drop her bag to the deck with a heavy thump. “I’ll get her. You get the ship off world and set course for the next rendezvous. Make sure you find Bail Organa as soon as you touch down,” she instructed. She narrowed her gaze at the golden protocol droid standing beside her. “Threepio, you are in charge. Get them out of here.”

Luke’s mouth fell open, hands falling away from her arm to cross over his narrow chest. “We can go into orbit,” he tried to negotiate. “There are asteroids on the edge of the system that would –“

Ahsoka stopped him with gentle hands on his shoulders, squeezing tight. “Luke, the only way your mother is truly safe is if you and your sister are far away. I cannot go if you won’t –“

“We will,” Leia spoke up, arms curled around herself. “We’ll go.”

Ahsoka spared herself a long look at each of them on the ramp. She had not looked back leaving the Temple that day. She would not make that same choice this day. “May the Force be with you,” she told them, meeting their eyes in turn. With a last nod, she bolted.

The hallways were clearing now, only the last stragglers still left in the base, and she was able to run almost full tilt. While she moved through doors and passages her sense of the Force was reaching out, seeking the presence of Padme within the rising darkness of the Empire’s forces.

She stumbled suddenly, the wave of terror that she felt through the Force blistering. It was worse than she had thought. It was not another Inquisitor, was not simply ground forces, or a blockade. _Vader_.

The sound of blaster fire and shouting led her closer. But it was not her goal. Beyond any doubt, she knew Padme would be found wherever Vader was. The sense of his darkness, the void of him, was a beacon in the worst way, guiding her inexorably forward.

One of the passages had been collapsed by laser-fire and she found the fighting abruptly when she sought another way through, squeezing through a crack left behind from the collapse. She fell into the fight without hesitation. Her sabers were already in hand, the Force lending speed to her movements as she deflected Stormtrooper fire with both blades. Dead Rebels lay where they had fallen, the survivors taking shots from behind a console. The troopers were hindered by the only entrance, a narrow doorway. They would keep coming though. They always did. Each white mask replaced by the next in line. Ahsoka did not stop moving, assessing the situation even as she ran into the middle of it. The most she could do would be buy time for those who lived to get to their ships.

“Go!” She forced her way toward the door, blades moving as a blur, a solid shield between her comrades and their enemy. “Behind me. There’s a way through.” Blaster bolts shot past her, an attempt by those fleeing to cover her. 

She risked a look over her shoulder, her hands moving with the direction of the Force more than anything physical. One soldier remained, tucked in the crevice of the broken wall and returning fire. He gestured for her to join him, to run with the people she had saved.

Ahsoka shook her head instead. “Where is Phoenix Leader?” she shouted, making herself heard over the blaster fire.

The Rebel’s face went white and his expression fell. “You can’t!” He was shouting too but Ahsoka could not hear him over the blasts.

Ahsoka sliced her blade decisively down through the air and was motionless. A final bolt deflected and caught the last stormtrooper in the chest. The sudden quiet that fell was a shock.

“Where is she?” Ahsoka repeated herself, voice low. “Where did Vader breach?”

Realizing the futility of argument and the time he was wasting, her companion nodded. His expression was bleak. “You’re nearly there.” He gestured toward the door. “Before the comlinks got jammed the last transmission was near the central listening post.”

Ahsoka was already moving, blades in her hands, and spoke over her shoulder. “Get to the ships. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous.”

There were no troopers, no Rebels left alive on her route. The sounds of combat were absent until they were not. It took her a moment to recognize that it was not solely blaster fire she heard, but the hum of a lightsaber deflecting bolts. Her speed redoubled without conscious thought.

The anger was a physical presence, growing in size as she drew closer to the fighting. The shadow loomed, filling the space as the final door slid aside. All that she could see was black cape and the curve of the helm. All she felt was anger, hot and cold shooting through her. Split open, burning and freezing in rolling waves. Vader was a roiling ocean, fathomless anguish and despair. He – it – felt inescapable. Completely overwhelming. It had been bad enough being in the valley watching Vader approach but this, being close enough to hear his breathing, was unlike anything she could have possibly imagined.

Ahsoka did not hesitate. Blades extended down, she leaped to slash at the blackness. Light struck with a crash. The monster roared, the sound mechanical and echoing. His arm swung, throwing her off.

Ahsoka rolled to her feet, blades crossed to catch the red saber between them. Padme was behind her, but there was nowhere for them to go. There was only Vader.

“Good to see you, Phoenix,” Ahsoka quipped, pushing Vader back. She could feel Padme’s tension, her terror mounting behind her helmet at the sight of her defender. She had been tasked with getting the twins away. Not this rescue. “Your ambassadors are on their way to the rendezvous,” she promised, the words gritted between her teeth as she struggled.

Vader threw her back with powerful muscles and mechanical motors. Ahsoka kept her feet and her guard up but the darkness did not immediately reengage. For the briefest moment, he seemed to look at her. His helmet cocked to the side ever so slightly. Almost as though he recognized her.

Then he was on her and it was everything she could do to keep him off them. There was no room to mount a counter offensive where they were, no way to pass off one saber to let Padme cut them a way out. All she could do was fight for their lives.

The roar of a blaster bolt in close quarters deafened her. Padme knelt behind a collapsed section of wall with her rifle, the emitter moving to track the Sith Lord. While Ahsoka engaged the lightsaber and moved in and out of the shot line there were only limited opportunities to pull the trigger. With his red blade caught between Ahsoka’s white, the bolt caught Vader in the side before he could catch it with his gloved hand. His mechanical yell echoed through the chamber. It felt like the roof shook over them with the volume of his roar.

The growling tangle of their blades was left behind when the vibrations faded away, the crackling static of sabers locked in contest. The buzz was as familiar to Ahsoka as her own breathing. The tension and tremor of her muscles as she held the line could have been any other sparring session. Vader’s wheezing breath was jarring though, too alien to be familiar and too loud for the space they occupied. It made him larger than life. The roof shook again, something far away booming but barely audible.

Ahsoka could barely hear as the boom repeated, growing closer, the sound resolving itself in her mind as the cannon of a small shuttle. “What -?” Padme yelled without thinking, her voice hoarse and high. Vader recoiled as if shocked, taking a long step back seemingly involuntarily. The rhythm of his mechanized breathing hitched, missing a breath, and left the cavern strangely quiet with only the buzzing of the now separated lightsabers. The next cannon strike was closer, the tremors shaking the walls and ceiling for a moment that spread and grew.

Ahsoka did not hesitate, one blade up to defend them, and the other arched through the air toward Padme. “Phoenix! Cut us a way out of here!” Adjusting her stance, she took two large steps back to give herself room to maneuver but kept herself between Vader and Padme. 

Padme slung her rifle back into its place on her back and triggered Ahsoka’s saber back into life. She had only just stepped toward the wall when the blasting resumed overhead. The ceiling fell apart a moment later with a sound like thunder, dirt and rocks crashing to the floor. Padme whipped around, holding the saber in front of herself defensively, if a little awkwardly. Vader fell back beneath the blows of the collapsing tunnel, retreating before he was crushed by debris.

Ahsoka, blade held before her to try and see through the dust and sand in the air, moved forward cautiously. Daylight was pouring in through the rend in the ceiling, dirt whipped around by the engines of whatever ship hovered just out of sight overhead. The cycling of the engine grew louder as the ship dropped down lower. The dirt cleared under the increased ozone from the engines, enough to see the extended ramp gaping open on the lower side of the ship.

Her ship. 

The realization made Ahsoka blink, disbelieving.

“Go!” she shouted, gesturing with her saber. Padme did not wait, running with Ahsoka’s other blade in her grip. She could not make the jump and she knew it, but she threw herself into the air anyway, knowing that Ahsoka would see her the rest of the way. Only a few steps behind her, Ahsoka pushed through the Force so that Padme expended her momentum in a run to the top of the ramp. Ahsoka stumbled in behind her and slapped the ramp control panel on the wall.

Out of breath, Padme tore her helmet off. Her hair was sweaty, hanging in loose tendrils around her face. They snapped the sabers off, and Padme let her helmet drop to the deck. “This is your shuttle,” she said, looking around to confirm it. “The kids –“

The ship was rising through the atmosphere and Ahsoka felt it break through into space. “I told them to go to the rendezvous.”

Padme glared abruptly, shoving the deactivated hilt of Ahsoka’s saber into her chest. She snapped, “Clearly, they listened!”

Ahsoka laughed and the sound of it surprised them both. She caught her saber against her chest. “I wonder where they could have learned to rebel,” she said, smirking when Padme’s mouth fell open, wordless. She clipped the hilts of her lightsabers back into their places on her hips. “They saved our lives,” Ahsoka reminded her gently, the smiles they exchanged going soft.

Just then the ship rocked with a near miss of cannons in pursuit and the two women gripped the wall to keep their feet. Padme’s helmet slid a short distance and clattered against the bulkhead. Ahsoka ran as best she could toward the ship’s nose, waving Padme toward the gunner seat while the ship maneuvered wildly around them. She reached the cockpit, keeping her feet by gripping the doorframe tightly. “Luke!”

He was straining to reach a panel on the far side of the cabin without releasing the pilot yoke from his grip. “Ahsoka! Help! I can’t-“

Lunging forward, Ahsoka hit the panel even as she fell into the copilot’s seat. “Even us out and make the jump as soon as the calculation is complete,” she instructed him. Both hands moved swiftly to start the navicomputer on its process.

Luke’s head bobbed in a brisk nod, blue eyes narrowed. His face was serious. He looked so much like his father it made Ahsoka ache. The ship swerved to avoid another blast and she bit back a smile. Their looks were far from the only resemblance between Luke and Anakin Skywalker.

Then navigation was complete, Luke pushed a lever forward and the stars became streaks of lightning outside the viewport as the shuttle made its jump to lightspeed.

He was scrambling out of his seat as soon as the humming of hyperspace replaced the cannon fire, running into the body of the ship and leaving Ahsoka to follow.

“Mom?!”

Padme had just climbed out of the gunner well with Leia clasped to her back and she knelt to grab Luke tightly. The little family collapsed to the deck in a tangle of arms, knees, and elbows.

“You could have been killed,” Padme remonstrated them, squeezing them tight.

Luke’s voice sounded strained under the force of his mother’s hug. “So could you. We couldn’t leave you.”

“You disobeyed orders,” Padme directed at Ahsoka, looking up at the Togruta standing over them. Her arms shifted to hold the children closer.

Ahsoka only shrugged. “They ordered me to go after you,” she countered. The nonchalance was feigned, her breathing only just starting to regulate, her pulse jumping beneath her skin.

Unable to argue, Padme just relaxed into the floor. The bulkhead beneath her was hard but cool. The twins wriggled in closer like little Loth-kits. For a moment, a single perfect, complete moment, the knowledge that they were all safe, whole, and together, was enough.

Then Luke was climbing to his feet, talking a parsec a second about the maneuver he had pulled with the shuttle during their escape, his hands moving to demonstrate the path of the ship. Leia got up as well, instantly usurping her brother’s story by igniting her newly constructed lightsaber.

Ahsoka watched for a moment in silence as Luke took the hilt to examine it. She sat down next to Padme on the deck, still watching them. “We need to talk about Obi-Wan,” she said softly. Padme turned to look at her without speaking. Ahsoka tore her gaze away to meet her eyes.

The lightsaber hum vanished and both women turned their gazes to the twins. They were both standing straight and still, Leia’s saber in Luke’s hand, his own hanging by his side. “We have to go after him,” Luke said seriously. He handed the hilt back to his sister. They both looked – it took Ahsoka a second to find the word – ready.

“Luke – “ Padme started, hesitant to crush her children’s hopes.

Leia stepped forward, her grip tight on her saber. Her jaw and shoulders were squared. “Mom, Obi-Wan is alive. We can feel it.” Beside her Luke nodded. “He’s alive.”


	6. Chapter 6

Heat without end. Light that glowed even when his eyes were closed, making his world red and orange. Between the light and the heat, it felt like burning. Each breath was searing. Scorching him from the inside out. His lightsaber was a weight in his hand so familiar as to be unnoticed. Its blue glow did nothing to cut through the darkness. It was not physical, but it could be felt. Like lightning about to strike, it raised the hair on the back of his neck.

The fight had been long, exhausting, and painful. More like a fight against himself that anything else could ever have been. They had been two halves, before this. Now they were on opposite sides of a gulf that had never been wider. Could never be bridged.

Darth Vader held his blade, lit but unmoving, as he watched Obi-Wan Kenobi – or what remained of his former master – collapse to his chest on the burning coals of the shores of Mustafar’s molten rivers. The Jedi’s arm reached for his own saber hilt, but his fingers could not grasp it. Vader kicked it aside with the toe of his boot. They both heard it sizzle as it contacted the lava. There was a quiet crackling and pop as components warped and broke. It sank below the surface to melt and become part of the molten flow.

“Anakin –“ Obi-Wan’s attempt to speak was hoarse, a dry croak.

Vader’s teeth clenched. “That name no longer has any meaning for me,” he stated flatly. Anakin Skywalker had been a weak man. Weak and desperate. Vader had power and the strength to keep it. To keep Padme alive. To destroy the small-minded Emperor and deliver his own will to the good of the Empire. He could bring peace and freedom to thousands of worlds. Loyalty was not such a high price to pay in return. Not for the security he would provide. An end to war and slavery. And all he asked for his deliverance was obedience.

“Please –“ Obi-Wan grabbed at the embers before him, struggling to pull himself forward from the shore. Smoke rose around him, as though the ground itself would soon burst into flames to engulf them both. His fingers nearly brushed the toe of Vader’s boot.

An influx of cold air sent a shiver across the bare skin and scar tissue that made up Darth Vader’s chest. The burns left from Mustafar had physically healed, leaving his chest and what remained of his limbs severely marked. The vision cleared as he surfaced from his mediation. His lungs burned the way they had scorched in his vision, leaving him helpless to breathe outside of his mediation sphere and the suit of armor in which he lived. The Emperor had them made for him, a specialized atmosphere in each that made it possible for him to breathe through his ruined lungs.

Light touched his eyes and Vader realized that the mediation sphere was opening. His helmet and armor moved automatically to surround him as the atmosphere drifted free of the walls of the chamber. He winced as the breather settled into place at his nose and throat, the skin in those places raw with constant contact. He had to blink a few times as the visor sealed into place and his vision went red through the lenses of his helmet.

 _“Lord Vader.”_ The speaker sounded tinny and distant through his audio receptors. The sense through the Force tasted of anxiety.

“What?” he barked, impatient and vexed by losing the satisfaction of his vision. Since Kenobi’s capture such visions had become more detailed, more vivid, and intense.

_“It’s the prisoner –“_

Vader tuned out the rest of the plea. It was as familiar as the visions. Another escape attempt. Foolish Kenobi. So devoted to yet another doomed cause. His former master had not changed in the years since their battle on Mustafar. He was as blindly fervent as he had ever been. For all that he chose the wrong things to dedicate himself to. Whatever he was hiding, whoever he served now commanded a loyalty that was impressive, if misguided.

Vader had his suspicions who the traitors may be - various senators and aides from systems who had never quite fallen in line with the new regime. But his capture of Kenobi had yielded valuable information, even without breaking through to know Kenobi’s secrets. There was someone else, someone to whom the scattered rebellion looked for guidance. That was who Kenobi served. Who he had fought so hard to protect and keep secret. Someone he had surrendered himself to keep from Vader’s grasp.

That same person was why Kenobi struggled so hard to escape his fate. The truth of it had made itself clear to Vader ever since he had brought his former master on board the _Executor_. A truth revealed to him by the Force. But in his mediations he could not see the figure’s face. Only shapes guarded by shadows.

Vader was determined to break him of his secrets. Break Kenobi’s mind and he would have the key to destroying the pitiful resistance to his Empire. The last Jedi would fall to him and any foolish enough to follow his mysterious leader would fail.

“Leave him to me,” he prompted in the suit’s mechanical growl. His lightsaber swung from his suit’s belt, a comfortable weight. The door hissed open as he approached, and he heard it slide closed again behind him.

The figures arrayed against him were few, all with names, and faces. People he could hunt. Kenobi himself was a testament to his success. Ahsoka would be next. And the padawan of Skywalker would be more willing to listen than Skywalker’s Jedi master had been. She had seen through the lies of the Jedi before Skywalker. More than ever, he knew that Ahsoka’s leaving the fallen Jedi Order had been the will of the Force.

He saw it in his mind like a board, moves to make and pieces to capture or kill. Strategies and alliances. He would bend Kenobi to his will, would bring Ahsoka to his side, and would destroy this leader, whoever they may be.

Then it would be time for the child.

It was Vader’s deepest secret. The thought that would only cross his mind when he was weakest. His most human aspect, this desire for connection. More than Kenobi’s surrender, more than Ahsoka’s understanding, or the Emperor’s death, he wanted this. The child. The youngling he had fought in the forest. Small, but trained in the ways of the Force and skillful with a saber. Clearly the tutelage of Kenobi and Ahsoka. The child would be a great asset when the time came to cast down and destroy Palpatine. A learner for Vader himself to bring to full power in the dark.

_His child._

He had never allowed the thought to fully enter his mind, only to be puzzled with in the back reaches of his thoughts, turned over and prodded by the nearly silent whisper that was the only part of Vader allowed to remember Skywalker. The idea that this child was his. His and Padme’s. To imagine that a piece of her, of them, and their love remained – if it dawned inside him, it would dominate everything.

The youngling would be a valuable Padawan, a powerful Sith. Once they were trained and the Jedi teachings corrected. The child was young enough to still be taught the truth.

The lift arrived on the hangar level and Vader refocused himself on his goal. His old master had made escape attempts so often as to make an even bigger nuisance of himself. His normal security officers had been made fools of on previous efforts to recapture the Jedi. The security floors had proven to be no challenge for Kenobi but there was no chance of escaping the Interdictor class ship through any other level than the hangars.

Vader prowled onto the deck with his hand on his saber, his senses extended seeking the Jedi. Kenobi could sneak past normal troops with no trouble but trying to hide himself from a Sith Lord was impossible. Vader’s thumb rested on the activation trigger for his saber but hesitated.

He stepped forward without igniting the blade, raising his hand to intercept the length of conduit Obi-Wan Kenobi wielded against him. The blow was hard, sweeping down with blistering speed. The last ten years had not cost his old master any of his speed or strength.

Kenobi had kept his form and figure training with the child.

Vader twisted the conduit down and to the side but did not wrench it away, just let it go. He had the superior strength, even if he lacked some of his former agility. His suit, as much as he hated its limitations, was undeniably powerful.

“These attempts are foolish.” His voice was not labored, the same steady mechanical growl that the suit rendered. “You know you cannot defeat me.”

Obi-Wan feinted with his conduit and Vader obliged him by twisting to avoid the blow. It was futile. The binders still encased the Jedi’s wrists, making any blow he struck limited in both angle and velocity. He was a caged animal like this. A pathetic shell. A shadow of his former power. Vader could see Skywalker’s master within him still though.

“I will not be the one to defeat you, Darth,” Obi-Wan declared, tossing his hair back. He was sweaty, dirty, sore and bleeding, but his blue eyes were clear. His voice was quiet, a statement only the two of them could hear. “Your fall was begun long ago.”

Vader scoffed. His cape swirled around them as he dodged a running charge. Kenobi kept his feet but had shifted his position, Vader no longer between him and the limited shuttles the Destroyer carried. “Your leader cannot hide in the shadows forever. I hunted you down. I will hunt them down as well.”

Kenobi laughed and the world stopped. The genuinely joyful sound of it echoed off the smooth plated floors and distant walls. It bounced off the wings of the TIE fighters nearest them. It melted away years and distance and the hurt they had done to each other. When Anakin Skywalker was alive. When the man facing him had been his brother. When the sound of that laugh had been his best won achievement as a young boy.

Inside his helmet, Vader blinked. The light receptors in his mask appeared to be malfunctioning. His surroundings looked brighter, more vivid. Blue eyes watered behind his suit’s red lenses. Vader’s breathing faltered.

“She will bring you to your knees,” Kenobi stated, his voice ringing. It was a simple statement, delivered calmly, so matter of fact as to be casual. His belief was absolute. Faith in a truth so blinding that it wiped all else aside. It struck Vader like a chime, a single point of contact that echoed and sent waves of reverberation over everything it could reach.

The warmth that had been stealing across his chest became recognizable only as it fled before a wave of ice-cold fury that washed over him, dragging Vader down into its depths. Rage like he remembered from Mustafar exploded outward in a blast of energy through the Force that knocked Obi-Wan Kenobi off his feet and flying across the hangar.

Vader clenched his saber’s hilt tight enough to hear the metal creaking as he stalked toward the prone body of his former master. Obi-Wan was moving slowly, head turning as he tried to orient himself, struggling to push himself up with bound hands. The saber in his hand called to its master, urging Vader to strike down the troublesome Jedi. To finally end that connection to Anakin Skywalker.

Kenobi dropped back to the deck as Vader stalked to stand over him. The Jedi’s blue eyes moved from the helmet to the saber clenched in Vader’s fist. His hands moved up over his chest, an apparent gesture of surrender. For this day, at least, he seemed to be content with his efforts to escape, for all his lack of progress or success. His head fell back softly against the flooring below him, his eyes closing.

Vader stared down at him, the hatred pounding a beat through his head. It would be simple. To destroy his enemy and weaken the pitiful Rebellion with one single strike of his saber. His vision filled his thoughts – Kenobi at his feet, reaching out to him for mercy that would not come.

He breathed, respirator working to maintain the atmosphere within his armor. The Dark Side was there, ready to drive his blade down. He needed but ignite the blade and the Force would complete the action. Kenobi did not react, only laid still. As though he was not a prisoner. As if his Rebellion was not doomed. As if his mistress, whoever she was, had even a sliver of the power the Force gave Vader from the Dark Side.

Slowly, Vader released the grip on his lightsaber. Kenobi had given him a lead today. While trying to escape, while attempting to boast, he had let information loose. Vader would teach him to regret it. His hand rose to signal to his guards. “Take him away,” he growled. 

The troopers marched over briskly to obey. They bodily hauled Kenobi to his feet and started to drag him back to his cell. Over the shoulders of the pristine white armor, blue eyes found the lenses of Vader’s mask without blinking. It was as if the mask were not between them and he could see the golden gaze glaring back at him. Obi-Wan did not blink.


	7. Chapter 7

The first shriek of the proximity alarm caused Padme Amidala to open sleepless eyes only to sigh. They had been on this moon only long enough to establish the barest rudiments of a base. She had barely unpacked. After the last two standard cycles of never getting to stay anywhere longer than a few rotations she had been expecting this. Vader was too close on their trail.

She turned to put her feet on the floor, leaning over her knees while she considered. One option had been growing in her mind as the best option. It felt clear to her now that it was their only choice.

To save the Rebellion from Vader, she had to leave the Rebellion behind.

The others thought they knew why he pursued them with such doggedness, but it was not because they had managed to win some skirmishes, or because they had proved to be a more painful thorn in his side. No, she knew what the Sith Lord wanted. He wanted her children. The son and daughter of one of the Jedi’s last great heroes were prizes no Sith could let go of.

To keep the Rebellion alive, to give them time to get to ground and reestablish communication and supply lines, she had to take her children and run.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan believed that the fate of the galaxy would come down to a showdown between her twins and Vader and his Emperor. To them, it felt destined, as though the Force would end local governors and Moffs abusing power in thousands of systems the moment two men were dead. As though the infrastructure of the galaxy would remain intact through the force of willpower.

She had fought and bled, struggled for years to build a Rebellion that could hope to resist the Empire’s crushing might. Her friends had the Force, and their faith, to hope in. To give them strength and resolve. That was what the Rebellion gave to her. The strength to fight so that the Rebellion could help spare the galaxy’s people from the oppression of the Empire. To Padme Amidala, former Queen of a world put under blockade, the Rebellion was meant to be something the people under the Empire’s heel could place their hope on. And to save everything that she had worked to build, she had to leave it. To have her children be hunted.

Being one among hundreds had spared them for this long. But Vader had their scent now. Being here any longer put the entire movement at risk. They had to go.

The cool stone was solid and grounding under her feet. Padme took a moment to stretch her toes, liking the contrast of warmth of her bedding and the smooth chill below her. It was rare she took time to just be still. There was too much to do, so much to prepare before they left. A memory rose unbidden of the lake house on Naboo, Anakin meditating daily on the veranda. His voice confessing softly that her presence soothed him after a night of restless sleep and vivid dreams.

Padme stood up, crossing her arms behind her back the way she could remember him doing, and closed her eyes. She did not have a connection to the Force but instead let memories float behind her eyes. She would remember the exact tint of gold in his hair from that morning for as long as she lived. She could see it in exacting detail in her mind. The sun rising over the lake, light reflecting off the water to make the world glow green and blue. It had felt then as if they were the only people on the planet.

She missed him with an ache that was constant, sometimes quiet, but never gone.

Padme breathed in deep and held it for a beat, two beats, and released it slowly before opening her eyes. She was no Jedi, but it had helped somehow. She could focus now, clearheaded and calm.

As she dressed, her mind was busy making a list of supplies they would need, contacts who could shelter them, and places they could go. It would not be easy, but it was the right choice. She knew that.

When the door chimed while she was finishing the ties on her boots it was only a second before the twins were bounding into her quarters. “Mom!” Luke was in the lead and he stopped short at the sight of her. “They’re coming!”

“Again,” noted Leia dryly.

“Are you two ready to go?” Padme asked them both. They looked at each other before looking at her, nodding. “Can you get your things to our ship? I’ll meet you in the hangar.”

Luke shrugged, his hair hanging in his face. “Yeah.” He looked around the room. “Where are we going to go?”

Reaching out to push the hair back from his eyes, Padme shook her head. “Somewhere far away. We can discuss it on the ship.” The twins exchanged quiet looks again but did not argue.

“We are really leaving,” Leia said, not a question but a quiet statement.

“We have to,” answered Padme, looking each of them in the eye squarely. “Vader will not stop coming. Staying will only endanger everyone.”

“He’s after us,” Luke stated. He merely squared his shoulders, one hand looped casually through his belt. Since his last growth spurt he had surpassed his sister’s height. He had not grown enough to hit Anakin’s stature, yet, but Luke had his father’s blond hair and lean build. “You’re right, Mom. We have to go.”

Leia nodded, her expression contemplative. “We need Ahsoka. She needs to come with us. I can feel it.” Luke’s brow furrowed as he reached out, trying to find the same sense his sister had reached.

“Of course,” Padme acknowledged. It had been a half-formed thought in her own plan. Ahsoka was a recognizable enemy of the Empire and needed to avoid Vader as much as any of them. “You’re ready?” she asked again. The meaning was different this time and they all knew it.

Watching them, knowing they could communicate with each other in a way she would never be able to use, Padme let her breath slow. They were young, it was true, but her planet had always valued the perspective and insight of youth. She had been crowned Queen scarcely older than they were now. She had seen them training and learning and growing from the time they were small. She would not be the one who denied they were capable.

The noises of alarms and people seemed to fade back into existence gradually once they nodded to her and Padme felt her shoulders square. “Then let’s go.” She reached for her open bag. “I need to speak to Bail and Ahsoka, but you two get the ship prepped,” she instructed them. “Anything you think we need, get it. I will be at the hangar as fast as I can. And don’t forget the droids!”

They left without further discussion, at least nothing she could hear, and Padme resumed her packing. There was more than enough for her to do, so she packed as lightly as she dared. They hardly stayed anywhere long enough to accumulate much. The only memento she kept was one she had with her always – her Japor snippet on its cord around her neck under the collar of her tunic.

Bail answered his comlink on the first chime, his voice deep and stony. He sounded tired. It was wearing, leading a double life. Padme could remember the feeling. “Bail, we have to leave. The children and I –“

“What has happened!?” he asked quickly, his voice more alert. His protective instincts toward the twins were second only to herself.

Padme sighed, looking back at the empty chamber left behind as she pulled her case strap over her shoulder. “Vader wants the children. We can’t establish any sort of base with him on our trail.”

His silence was brief as he worked out her meaning. He had always been so clever. “So, you meant to, what, use yourself and the children as bait?”

She could have argued about the phrasing, but the truth was, bait is what she felt like. To spare the Rebellion, they would become Vader’s targets. “There is no other way, not yet.”

“Where will you go?” he asked, both knowing she could not risk telling him their plans. “We will help however we can. You have allies.”

“I intend to reach out to an old friend when we leave here,” she promised. “We will not be on our own. I just wanted you to know we were going.”

He took a moment and his voice sounded thick. “Be careful.”

“May the Force be with us all, my friend,” she said softly, disconnecting the link. A remote ping would suffice to signal Ahsoka to meet her. Hesitating before she made her next call, she rolled the comlink in her hand. She had done a lot of things she had never expected to do in service to the Rebellion, even more than she had been asked to do as Queen of Naboo, but she did not know how to take this next step.

She had never been alone, though. And she was brave. _They_ were –

“- brave of you to presume you know where they went without any information,” Vader fumed, not raising his voice but looming. His Destroyer had been tracking the Rebels for months, following every scrap of a trail they could find, sometimes only a hint, but there was always something small, some tidbit of a lead to be forced out of an unwilling or unwitting contact.

Always, the Force had supported the direction of the navigator. He could not catch up close enough to be able to reach out to his child within the Force, but he knew innately whenever they had been there. His child was powerful in the Force. They glowed like a beacon, leading him inexorably to the Rebels.

“Lord Vader, the locals support the Rebel fleet fleeing into – “

His fist tightened and the officer’s words choked off. It did not matter what the locals thought. That heading was wrong. His child was not there.

Because they were no longer with the fleet. The realization rang true. Ahsoka had taken the child and left the relative safety of the Rebellion to lead him away.

Vader released his fist and his navigator coughed violently, his hands on his chest. Even better. He cared not for hunting Rebels. That was what his legions were for. His goal was his child. The future of the galaxy.

“Pursue the Rebels. Bring them to ground,” Vader declared swiftly. “Prepare my shuttle. I will follow my own leads.”

Bravely, the Captain cleared his throat to draw the Sith Lord’s attention. “What of the prisoner?”

Vader considered for only a moment. “Transfer him to my shuttle. I shall keep him contained.” It was a veiled slight at the security team on board. Kenobi had not ceased his escape attempts, once even getting onto a shuttle before being captured again. Vader would bring the Jedi with him. All the better for Kenobi’s hope to be dashed before his own eyes.

His suit was self-sufficient, and he had nothing to pack, so he was already at the shuttle when Kenobi was dragged in. The ship was outfitted with specialized equipment for him including a pressurized chamber for him to rest, an enlarged hangar for cargo or to dock a speeder, as well as a small bank of prisoner cells.

The ray shield and repulsors held Kenobi suspended over the floor in a field of blue haze. “At least it doesn’t spin,” the Jedi murmured to himself as he looked around his new accommodations. “Not really a long-term solution, though.” The field released him, dropping Kenobi to the floor. He had to catch himself with one hand, his knees bent. He looked up at Vader through auburn hair, finally quiet.

The cell was not big enough for them both. This was the closest he had stood to Kenobi in years without a lightsaber in his hand. He scarcely needed a weapon at this close range. Kenobi’s death would serve nothing now though. Better to let Kenobi lose all the hope he had, to watch it drain out the way his own had been bled away from him.

Vader stepped out of the room without speaking, only sealed the door with a gesture as he started toward the cockpit.

The shuttle was no starfighter, but it was his alone, and Vader took a moment to revel in laying in coordinates that had nothing to do with his master’s bidding or the petty squabbles of local Moffs. This was his errand, his path, his _destiny_.

The starfield snapped to beams of light as he went to hyperspace and Vader watched through his helmet’s lenses. He knew the stars were blue, from memory, but through his visor they appeared distorted. Vader pushed away the reminder to focus instead on the growing thrill he felt deep in his gut. The excitement he felt was something completely new. The adrenaline of a fight he was familiar with, the sensation of a hunt as common to him as the rasp of his respirator. This was something else. Not a goal of destruction or death, but the possibility of connection. An equal. His child.

Kenobi had known. Had kept his child from him.

It was a lancet of lightning through his mind – fury and pain to drive him. Kenobi would know this pain once his child had been restored to him. Until then, Vader let it build like a wave in his mind. The Force would help him. He could feel it guiding him.

Unconsciously, his eyes slipped closed behind the helmet as the tide of anger ebbed out again. It was still present, pulsing inside his chest, but a furnace that compelled without consuming. The field of light behind his eyes went blue and hazy, the way hyperspace had looked before. He breathed out, growing almost meditative.

Family had been everything to Skywalker. His connections, his greatest downfall. Vader did not fear attachment the way the Jedi had. He had already lost everything and survived. Everything burnt away on the shores of a river on Mustafar. His child felt like an opportunity. One that must not be –

“Lost,” Padme said dryly, considering Luke’s rounded shoulders and sheepish expression. He had set the navicomputer for the latest jump and seemed to believe he had made a mistake. “Show me,” she coaxed him, gently pushing his chair to turn back to the display. Her fingers combed through his hair softly, soothing him. She was no navigator, so she just listened while he talked through his process. 

His voice came faster as he found his error. “I got it! This is the Lothal system, I just brought us in on the far side.” He gestured to a line of calculations. “I should have put in point five to bring us in on the hyperspace lane on the day side.” He smiled up at her hopefully. “I know where Ahsoka told us to go.”

“I know you do.” She leaned over to kiss the top of his head and her eye caught Sabe’s in the doorway. Leaving Luke to his calculations, she joined her old friend in the passage outside the cockpit. “Our pilot assured me we are on course,” she said, an affectionate smile curling her mouth.

Sabe allowed a little grin. Around them, the ship accelerated, and both women reached toward the bulkhead to steady themselves. “What is our destination?” Padme asked curiously. They had seemed to have gained some breathing room in the last few cycles and no longer felt the shadow of Vader over them wherever they went. But it drove Padme mad to be completely cut off from the Rebellion.

Sabe turned to lead the way to the galley and seats as the ship dove through space and Padme followed. “Ahsoka mentioned a temple near here.” Anticipating the objection from her friend, she continued quickly. “It’s a hidden place, secret. Defensible.”

“How did she find out about it?”

Sabe shrugged. Jedi were beyond her. Padme knew she was here to keep her queen safe. To protect her children. “One of her contacts here is a sympathizer, I think. Or maybe someone who was in training before the purge.”

“There’s a cell here?” Padme asked as they entered the galley, directing the question to Ahsoka. The Togruta was practicing forms with Leia but she straightened up and moved to join them at the table. Leia dashed past to join her brother in the cockpit.

Nodding, Ahsoka pulled up a profile on the table’s projector and set the holographic map of Lothal spinning slowly over the tabletop. “They’re new. And very small. They’re based in this system, but they travel to handle some acquisitions.” Smugglers then.

“New?” They had been burned before by double agents, and her guard was high.

Sabe understood without questioning. “Bail vouched for them.”

“So, a temple?” Padme moved to the next issue without hesitation. It was a comfort, being back in Sabe’s company. They understood each other in ways most people simply could not. Her oldest friend, her closest confidant, the first person she had reached out to when the time had come to leave the Rebellion.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice, but the contact told us it can hide itself.” Sabe’s skepticism was clear in her voice, but Padme did not comment. She had seen many things, living with a Jedi, being friends with a Master. “If it’s true, that will help,” Sabe noted, gesturing toward a section of the map. “The closest city is in this area, but there are mountains all throughout the outskirts that help hide people who want to stay out of sight.”

The mountains were quite spacious, they found as they made planetfall, the sunset made hazy between the peaks. The whole place had a soft feeling, something about it that was just light. It looked through the viewport as though the whole world was a painting. A hollow to land in and camp had been relatively simple to find, especially as far outside of town as they journeyed.

They had supplies for several weeks and with a Rebel cell in the area there would be contacts and more rations available. If they were smart, careful, and lucky, they could remain here for a while. Not forever, because she knew that wherever they were, Vader would come. But Lothal felt like a chance to catch their breath.

They took their explorations slowly, cruising through the mountains in search of their goal, stopping early each day and making camp whenever they found a likely place. The time was valuable, Ahsoka shifting the focus of the twins’ training to masking the sense of themselves through the Force. An effort to keep them safe.

Padme could not feel the Force herself, but Ahsoka had described to her the way the children glowed with energy throughout. As though they were signal fires. Tiny points of light from a distance but up close they blazed. To protect themselves, they had to learn to cover it.

Padme was content to let the twins pilot as they explored so she was in the galley looking over supply requisitions when Leia called out from the cockpit. Sabe was right beside her as she dashed toward the front of the ship. “What is it?”

Luke and Leia were both perfectly still in their seats, Ahsoka in the copilot’s chair. All three stared out at the mountain before them. “We’re here,” Ahsoka answered her, breaking off her gaze. “This is the temple.”

“This mountain?” Sabe asked doubtfully. Ahsoka nodded without speaking. 

“It goes down into the planet,” Leia said, her voice quiet. The ship was hovering, and she let her eyes close as she concentrated.

Padme stepped up into the space behind Luke’s seat. “Can you open it?”

The twins looked at each other, nodding. “Together we can,” Luke said in a near whisper.

“It’s always two,” noted Ahsoka softly, almost to herself. “Take us down.”

When they landed and opened the ramp Padme followed the twins down at a slower pace. They were running, Ahsoka following them, and Padme let herself take the rear. Sabe fell into step beside her naturally.

“What is this place?” 

Padme heard Sabe’s question but remained quiet, watching from the shadow of the mountain as her children uncovered an insignia in the stone. When the ground rumbled at her feet at the gesture of her son and daughter, she exhaled – every bit of air in her chest going out to meet the ancient atmosphere of the sunken temple. “A new hope,” she finally answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun putting the easter eggs in this chapter! Let me know if you caught any references to other Star Wars media! (there's a reference to a show, a book, and of course, the movie reference)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating this one early because i'm not working today and i'm excited!

Vader had to give Skywalker’s padawan credit. She had been training his child very well since Kenobi’s capture. The trail he followed had faded almost to nothing – nothing concrete left, only whispers and rumors. Only his faith in the Force that he was on the right track. Wherever the Force lead him, he knew that his child was at the destination.

He was not sure where he was going, only sure of why he went.

Wide open plains made him remember the desert, no matter that this backwater had no sand in sight. No matter how far he went from being the slave boy from Tatooine, no matter how many planets he had seen and conquered, the desert was part of him.

His suit drew the sun like a magnifier, drawing the heat down on him as he stalked across the plains. His respirator never wavered, the workings inside the suit as regulated as ever. The shade brought relief to his mind, distance from the heat.

The cavern was dim and cool as he ducked inside. The visor of his helmet adjusted automatically to the shadows and painted the caves with stark reds and whites to maximize visibility. His breathing seemed to echo as he walked. The feel of his boots striking the ground seemed to spark the tiniest of tremors. The Force was strong with this place. There was something here for him to learn. The knowledge seemed to sing to him, just slightly beyond hearing. Like a melody to which the words escaped him.

He followed the song up steep paths, through narrow crevasses, down into depths that seemed to drop forever beyond the path he followed. The paths were rough, untracked terrain. This planet had cities, though none were close, but it felt uniquely isolated. As if he were the only one to walk the surface and below it.

He would be the one to find this place’s secrets, its knowledge. And with it, he would find his child.

The pathway started to rise again, surfacing within stone. The passages began to look carved, made by some intelligent species. There were corners, and turns, other possible routes. Vader stretched out with his feelings. The way was clear. He made his choice and turned the corner.

He was focused so intently that the things in his sight did not immediately seem real. A human sat casually on the edge of a crate, working intently on the wiring in her hands. He blinked, focusing, and the figure was assuredly not real. The woman at the far side of the cavern was – impossible.

Padme Amidala. Not exactly as he had known her. Older, a few more lines around her mouth and eyes. Hair long, down and loosely pulled back. How she would have looked had she lived, possibly. So beautiful his heart ached.

It could not be.

For the first time since he had put it on, the respirator in Vader’s suit failed him. He lost several breaths before it resumed its function. Disoriented by the vision before him, his eyes searched for a clue. Why would the Force bring him here for this? What did it mean?

Just behind the woman was a door, another long passage visible beyond. Past the doorway stood a young girl with dark hair braided and curled at the back of her neck. The image of her mother. Out of a side passage walked a boy the same age, lanky and blond like his father. Trailing behind the boy came an unmistakable blue and white R2 unit, whistling and chirping in binary.

The woman stood from her seat, eyes locked on him, but she did not speak, only stood motionless. From her hand dangled the wires of the door control she had been installing.

Just inside the doorway, working on the matching control, another figure emerged, the motion drawing his eyes. Staring at him, another vision of the woman who could not be. There were differences, subtle and small, but present if one knew what to look for.

Of course. Ahsoka would not be able to operate entirely on her own. And who better to help hide the children of the fallen Senator of Naboo in death than her most loyal guardians in life?

The world began to spin abruptly as Vader drew in a ragged mechanical breath.

The day had dawned clear, the air just the littlest bit crisp. They had not been on Lothal long enough to see an entire season, but Padme had guessed they had arrived during the change of the seasons. They had fallen into a sort of routine since they had arrived – the twins training with Ahsoka in the morning while Padme and Sabe worked on setting up bolt holes and caches for the local Rebel cell.

They had been nearly done with the blast doors in the south passage when the twins had come to call them for the midday meal. Close enough to finished to stay in the passage to complete testing the door controls.

Then Vader had walked in. Then the world had stopped. The monster who had murdered her husband was only meters from her. Only meters from her children.

Padme’s blood went hot then cold in seconds. The anger she felt was superseded by resolve. Vader must not get to the twins.

It felt as though she watched the next several moments from outside her body. While she moved at a crawl the others were frozen and motionless. She turned, could see the furrow beginning to draw Luke’s brow down. Artoo was charging as quickly as he could toward the door, whistling and beeping nonstop. Leia’s mouth had fallen open, most likely to call out a warning. Closest of all, Sabe stared in horror at the shadow bearing down on them.

Sabe would understand what she had to do better than any of the rest of them, Padme knew. Their eyes locked and she could already see the denial and spirit in her friend’s eyes. “Blow it,” she said simply, unconsciously reaching backward in time for Amidala’s voice. The one they had shared. The one Sabe could not disobey.

No matter what, Sabe would see it done. She would get the twins to Ahsoka, get them to the ship, and then she would set off the charges they had been placing every two meters down the passage. Controlled blasts meant to seal the passage in case of a breach.

Her hands moved without thought, dropping the paneling to the stone floor and diving into the wiring they had nearly completed. One touch would seal the door. The contact was made, and she took a final look at her children before the heavy blast door slammed down between them. Then she gripped every wire she could with both hands and ripped them out of the wall.

The inhuman mechanical breathing was close behind her and Padme stiffened to make sure her shoulders did not rise. She would not cower before him. Not this creature of the Emperor’s.

“That was foolish,” he snarled, looming over her. He would not be taunted by the face of the woman he had loved. Whoever this pretender was, they would suffer for this.

She had trained how to read people for years as queen of her people and then as their Senator. Vader was furious beyond belief. Much more than could have been expected for rooting out a simple Rebel cell. His rage was personal.

So was hers, she decided half a second before she turned on him. She carried a holdout blaster at the middle of her back, but the Force ripped it from her hand before she could fire. “You’re a murderous coward!”

“You are a fraud to wear her face!” he roared back, voice echoing in the chamber. “Who are you?! Which one are you?!” She had spirit, like her queen, but defiance would be her last mistake. Once he had a lead, he would destroy her – destroy all of them. For daring to live while their queen was dead.

Confusion washed over her, but she held it back from appearing on her face. Of course, the galaxy at large believed that Padme Amidala had died along with her child right after the Jedi purge and the end of the war, but there was no reason for Vader to know or care about that. Everyone who had known about her handmaidens was either a Rebel or dead.

Not Vader.

There should be no intersection there, but there was. Judging strictly by his reaction and the sheer heat and vehemence of his emotion.

“Who is this person you think I am?” she asked, her voice calm but very carefully not Amidala’s. She could not tip her hand. She would not survive this, but at least she could keep him talking while the twins made their escape.

Vader stared at her without speaking for a long moment. The rage was a boiling ocean inside him, waves of it rising without falling. He could not breathe through his pain and anger. All of it choked him. He reached out to the Force for the truth.

“You have no right,” he ground out, the strain in his voice surprising them both.

The slightest tremble of the wall was the only warning before the explosions went off. Padme threw herself to the ground, arms crossed over her head in a futile effort to protect herself. She drew images of Luke and Leia to her mind, their faces smiling in her memory. So precious. So brave. If she died now, her only hope was that Vader was destroyed with her. To spare her children the burden of their supposed destiny.

The cavern’s destruction felt like it would never end – light and sound and senses all driven away under sustained and repeated blasts. She had not died yet, but it would not last. She pulled a memory to mind. One last time. Something close and precious. Something she kept tucked away in her heart for when she was strongest.

The white, smooth stone beneath her feet. Tactile and real in her memory. The view over the lake, the sun sinking and amber against the water. Anakin’s hand in hers, warm and strong as he had laced his fingers through hers. The jerky newness of his mechanical arm, perfect because it was part of him. Their vows, spoken lowly and fervently. A secret between them, contained between the chambers of their hearts.

Their kiss. Sealing them together.

Touching Anakin’s face after the priest had left them, the way he had turned within her touch to kiss the inside of her palm.

Pieces of the roof came down in chunks big enough to crush her, but none struck her. She felt several strike close but she remained alive despite her every expectation. The destruction finally ended, and it felt unreal. She hesitated to open her eyes.

When she did, she felt despair. She was alive.

So was Vader.

The Dark Lord was filthy, covered in dirt, struck by debris and breathing out of rhythm. He was on his knees, his fists clenched tight on his thighs, his helmet bowed. If he were injured though, she could not see it. 

It was her. Padme. She lived. The knowledge burst like a song through his mind, complete and whole and right. This was what the Force had brought him here to learn. The memory of their wedding on Naboo was something only she could have. Truth rang like a bell, reverberations shaking through him.

She lived. She had been living this whole time. Something twisted in his chest at the thought and he pushed it away. It allowed itself to be shoved aside, but the thought did not depart, only squirmed into the back of his mind to raise itself up again another time.

He had saved her instinctively as the realization of what he was seeing reached his mind, using the Force to protect her from the falling debris. Then he had fallen to his knees before her. Padme was alive. It beat though his mind with every beat in his chest.

Everything he had done was a waste. All his grief and pain, the anger. All of it was worthless. His head fell, eyes closed tight behind his mask. His life was a lie.

He shoved the realization away again, more sharply.

Padme got to her feet slowly, though there was nowhere to go. They were trapped. Together. Slabs of stone had caught each other, leaving them under a leaning stone roof only a few feet over her head. There was nowhere to go, no room to walk, no sign of escape.

“I shot you once.” She laughed to herself, looking around. He did not speak but his head lifted just slightly. His mechanized breathing sounded like a grinding wheeze. Maybe his respirator was broken. There was no daylight visible anywhere so maybe the cavern would run out of air. There was still a chance that Vader could die here. An ignominious death, to be sure, but it would solve problems. “You attacked my son.”

He knew, had known since he had seen them in the passage, but it made his chest feel tight at the confirmation. “Are they… twins?”

Padme shocked them both by blistering a slap across the face of his helmet. It made her hand burst with pain and did not visibly affect him at all. “I would shoot you again right now,” she declared, heated and breathing hard. She waited for retaliation, chest heaving.

Nothing came and the tension escalated. Unable to stand still any longer, Padme paced as close to the wall as she could reach, both hands rubbing her face. Unconsciously she undid the collar of her shirt, fanning the fabric away from her skin to simulate a breeze. Sweat beaded at the base of her neck and tickled its way down her spine. She turned to walk back toward the far corner.

Vader made a sound like an animal in pain. Something unlike anything she had ever heard a person make. She froze instantly.

Vader stared at her. Each breath was agony. His fingers marked her throat. After all these years. The marks of his hand under the string of the necklace that he had given her. She wore it still, the pendant visible against her collar. His chest felt like an open wound, ripped apart from the inside. He stood quickly before he realized what he was doing and froze when she shrunk back away from him. Neither one spoke.

His next move was slow, deliberate. He reached for his saber, igniting it. Padme recoiled again. Vader turned his back, cutting into the wall in precise motions. When the opening was wide enough, the sunlight visible, he stepped aside and bowed slightly. “Your Highness.”

It was an invitation and a confirmation.

Vader knew exactly who she was. There was exactly nothing she could do about it.

Whatever his reasons, she was not going to let a chance to live pass without taking it. She ran past him and into the sunlight without looking back until she was deep into the plains. The opening he had cut to free them was visible but there was no sign of the Sith Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact - this chapter has been subtitled "But there was only one blast door" since its first draft.
> 
> in all seriousness, this is the chapter/moment that i was most looking forward to writing when i first started this fic and i am so glad we're at this point.


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan Kenobi stretched forward as far as he could in his seated meditation position. The soles of his feet touched lightly, pressed flat against each other while he leaned forward. His arms reached out as far as they could, fingertips contacting the far wall of his quarters. He was still in a cell, but no longer suspended in a stasis field, so he was able to resume some meditation. 

Muscles ached as he held the stretch, but it was a familiar burn. As he moved through his routine he reached out into memory and the Force. 

Vader had charged onto the ship as though pursued, his armor dirty and cracked. Obi-Wan could hardly hear him from his cell, even isolated as the two of them were. Nothing about this trip made any sense to the beleaguered Jedi – hauled out of his cell on Vader’s flagship to be installed in a less secure, slightly larger cell on Vader’s personal shuttle.

Not even the droid had spoken to him. Vader had never opened his cell once they had departed his Star Destroyer. He had no way to judge time in the cell, but they had travelled for some time, stopping in orbit before moving on again. No one had come to him.

Not until a battered Vader had burst into his cell, breathing wheezing and cracked. He nearly careened into the containment field in his haste. His shoulder rose and fell in staggered waves. Something about him, some sense of him, felt broken in a way Obi-Wan had never seen him. 

“You knew,” Vader panted, his voice a gravel roar. “All this time – “

Obi-Wan redoubled his effort to keep his breathing steady, sweat starting to drip down the back of his neck. His foot slid out in a smooth line as he moved into the next form. The memories were an enigma, confusing and compelling. Breathing out again, he dove into the recollection again.

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew many things. Mostly secrets. Some things joyful, and some unbearably painful. All of them he desired to keep from Darth Vader. Unable to speak past whatever had happened to him off the ship, Vader had only glared and raged through the Force. Several time he started to speak but seemed to lose the thread before the words escaped his helmet. Finally, he had limped away, the injuries too much to ignore.

It was a puzzle, something he turned over in his head. Solitude was good for puzzles and he had nothing but time. They had returned to the Star Destroyer, Obi-Wan back into a new cell. Vader was keeping him closer, it seemed. A piece in the puzzle.

The questions had come but never in the way Obi-Wan expected them. He could remember standing on his arms, the blood rushing through his head, his view was distorted by virtue of his perspective, the galaxy upside down around him. His back was close to the wall of his cell but not touching, only so near as to be able to feel the heat of his exertions bouncing back at him.

Vader’s cape was the first thing he could see when the Sith Lord walked in, polished boots stopping just before the containment field. Obi-Wan could not be certain but he was pleased to imagine that his unusual position took Vader back a moment because he did not speak immediately. “What is it, Darth?” Obi-Wan asked, holding his voice in a chipper register.

“That moon where the Separatist supply depot went down after the battle on Metalorn – “

Stunned by the topic, the mention of their shared history that they both usually worked so hard to avoid or ignore, Obi-Wan did not stop himself. “The Cortosis droids, I remember.” He flipped his legs forward and stood upright, leaving his back facing Vader as he reached for his towel and wiped his face. “What about it?”

“Did the supplies get recovered in the cleanup?”

It was the last question he would have expected. Thinking back, he tried to remember if the Republic had sent any follow up teams in the aftermath of the battles. “I don’t recall.” He scrubbed the back of his sweaty hair with his towel as he turned around, considering the Dark Lord through the containment field between them. “If they had, the Republic would have had a record. If it survives, I would not know.”

Vader seemed to consider that, lost in his own thoughts, and finally nodded. “Very well.” Without another word, he turned and was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Obi-Wan stood there, motionless as the sweat cooled on his skin. The mission had been one of their more frustrating, chasing rumors of a facility producing battle droids that were resistant to lightsaber blades. It had trailed over planets, across systems. The supply depot had had nothing to do with the mission itself, merely collateral damage from a senseless war.

It could mean less than nothing to an Empire with resources encompassing the entire galaxy.

It could quite possibly make or break the Rebellion, but they had no way of finding the depot remains and had lost nothing by Obi-Wan giving Vader the lead. He would destroy the supplies and that would be the end of it.

Still, something about the whole thing sent a shiver down his spine. More pieces for the puzzle. There was more to this than met the eye. If only he could figure out where to look.

The cell was an upgrade from the statis field, but it was still a prison cell. Whatever advantage the extra space gave him, Obi-Wan would take. He had been developing a routine for spending his time, meditation and exercise. There was nothing else to do physically and many things yet to study in his mind. The Force was his center and it had much to teach him still.

As well as the more immediate mystery of exactly what Vader could be searching for. He was not fool enough to believe there was purpose of goodness behind Vader’s actions. Such a thing was impossible since Anakin Skywalker had fallen to the dark. What remained inside the armor was not capable of helping anyone, so the idea was put out of his mind. Whatever he _was_ doing, Obi-Wan would find it out.

He had been lying stretched out on his back, one arm was thrown over his eyes as he rested the next time Vader had come to call. Reaching out with his toes, his bare foot found the end of his cot. He should do another set of forms, just one more, then he could rest. He did not get up, though. One more minute, and then he would.

The door slid up, he could hear it, but merely rubbed his eyes. “What now?” he asked when Vader did not speak. Obi-Wan could hear him breathing steadily. Finally, he turned his head, squinting at him. With the light from the hall behind him, all he could see was a dark silhouette.

“Do you remember the Halla sector?”

Frowning, Obi-Wan sat up with a groan. “The Battle of Baz Pity was in the Halla sector, was it not? What of it?”

“I’m trying to remember – there was a moon… Isolated, and empty.”

Obi-Wan blinked, confused. “Why do you think I know more than the Imperial archives? Can you not just search for it?”

Vader’s helmet turned, as though he was looking over his shoulder. Watching his own back. Obi-Wan’s glance flicked to the highest corner where a monitor usually showed a tiny red light as it recorded his every move. The light was gone. They were alone, no guards in the hall.

Vader had them alone. Completely alone for the first time since the canyon where he had allowed himself to be captured. Most interesting.

Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall of his cell, curling his legs in front of him. “The Temple Archives,” he began.

“There must be no record of my search,” Vader countered. “If you know nothing…“ He spun to leave swiftly.

“There is not much out there. There were several small moons only a short jump away, as I recall. Perhaps Xoman or Alee could serve your purpose,” Obi-Wan said before the door opened. Vader stopped, his shoulders still for one deliberate moment before he exited the cell. The door made no sound as it closed but something seemed to echo through Obi-Wan’s head. 

Vader did not want his master to know what he was up to. That at least, he knew for certain. Could Vader possibly be working against the Emperor? Caching supplies and materials of his own in his own safe locations? Setting up his own means and networks?

Crossing his ankles, Obi-Wan sat up straight and reached out to the Force. He had many things left to learn. And more questions all the time.

Most puzzling of all were the times Vader came in not with a goal in mind but with something on his mind. Vader slipped in, silent except for his mechanized breathing, and paced the length of the cell once before taking up a post by the door and leaning. Obi-Wan looked up to meet his gaze but did not speak. Vader did not speak but there was a restlessness to his presence that made Obi-Wan feel like he had something he wanted to say. But he merely breathed. His presence was an irritant, the Force swirling with his ever-present anger and pain. It seemed to rotate around him like a nebula around a star. Ignoring him, Obi-Wan settled into his stance and shut his eyes. If the Dark Lord wanted something, he would demand it. Until he did so, Obi-Wan had his mediations.

The weight of those dark eyes on him were a distraction until they were not. He was finding captivity a great source of adaptability. By the time he opened his eyes again Vader had seated himself and seemed to be meditating himself. As he stood up and began to stretch, he realized that the prickle of irritation that Vader both carried with him and seemed to cause had faded away. The Force between them was – not at peace, it could not be with Vader being what he was, but peaceful.

That realization sunk in like sand under his skin, a coarse feeling that left him with a burning sensation between his shoulders that urged him to move. As though he could shake away the feeling.

The questions followed no pattern that Obi-Wan could track. None of it would lead him to his goal or hurt the Rebellion. Obi-Wan would have died before giving up information that would hurt them but nothing Vader asked for had anything to do with the current struggle. There simply was not enough information for Obi-Wan to see the whole picture. He remained blind to whatever Vader’s goal was. It felt as if he were close, just with something crucial missing.

The sirens were audible even from his cell, so he was alert when the door slid open. The noise increased, as well as lights flashing through the hall. Obi-Wan was on his feet when the field went down, allowing him the full range of the cell. He did not move toward the open door, wary after so long imprisoned.

“Come with me,” Vader barked, moving into view. “We have no time.”

Debating internally for only a breath, Obi-Wan moved to follow the Sith. Vader was moving quickly, not waiting for him. Obi-Wan followed, looking around as they moved through the ship. From what he could see, the tremor of plates under his boots, and the flashing, noisy sirens, it appeared that Vader’s Destroyer was engaged in a battle. Against whom, he had no clue, but he hoped fervently for their success, whoever they were.

He gaped when they stopped at an escape pod, Vader leaning down from his considerable height to type in an access code on the panel. “Get in,” the Sith Lord ordered.

Obi-Wan stood in the passage, his arms crossing his chest. “Where are we going?”

“You are going to deliver a message for me.” Vader produced a datacard from a pouch on his belt and held it out.

Obi-Wan did not move to take it. “Why would I do that?”

Vader nearly growled with frustration, thrusting the disc at him again. “Your friends will die if you do not.” Obi-Wan remained still. Vader took a step forward, shoving the datacard against his chest. “Kenobi, they will die.” There was something in his voice, mechanized as it was, that caught Obi-Wan’s attention. He waited, holding his expression still. “Padme will die.”

Obi-Wan felt cold, then hot, hollow. Everything he had done for years was to protect them, to keep them from Vader. The implications and questions swam through his head and left him dizzy. He did not let it show on his face, though he was not sure how much Vader could see in his eyes. “Padme is dead,” he said, quiet at first but his voice rising. “You killed her.”

Vader only cocked his head, impatient and frustrated, but without his characteristic lashing anger. His other hand pulled a familiar object out from beneath his cape. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. He pressed it into his chest with the card. “There is no time. You are the best chance they have of survival.”

He was right, as much as Obi-Wan hated to agree with Vader on anything. The opportunity he was being given was too much to squander. Whatever Vader wanted from him, he would still be free to return to aid Padme and the twins. His hand rose to take the items and Vader stepped clear of the pod’s hatch. Around them, the Destroyer shook with another hit. Obi-Wan climbed in, checking the pod’s controls. It was not ideal, but he supposed it was much better than nothing.

Vader hesitated at the door and Obi-Wan waited to be pulled out and thrown back into his cell. For just a moment it seemed like he might finally say whatever had been locked in his throat since that day on his shuttle when he had come back damaged and dirty. He finally triggered the pod and the door slammed shut between them, launching Obi-Wan spinning into space with only the datacard in his grasp as the last piece of Vader’s puzzle.

The pod was only minimally equipped, just guiding thrusters to try and steer and a seat and harness. No supplies and no way to read the datacard. Outside of the spinning viewport he was able to see enough to guide the pod toward the nearest likely safe landing. The Destroyer and its battle were out of sight behind him. There was nothing for it but to move forward.

It was not exactly simple to keep from turning the new facts he had over in his head after so long of having so much time to do exactly that. But Obi-Wan busied himself with making sure his pod made it to the surface, with hiking into the nearest settlement, and with trying to find a way to reach the Rebellion, deliberately keeping his mind from considering the implications of everything that had happened this day.

If Vader knew that Padme was alive – if he knew about the children – then everything was different. If he knew, then they had to go deeper underground that they had yet considered. If he knew, then why had he spent the last few cycles asking Obi-Wan about lost supply depots and hidden moons? Why had he given Obi-Wan a message and let him go?

Night had fallen locally before Obi-Wan gave himself time to consider the questions fogging up his head. How had he found out? When? Could Padme be safe in a galaxy where Vader knew she lived? He had managed to find a local at the cantina willing to shelter him in their barn for the night, another who had let him borrow a comlink for long enough to send a coded message to the closest Rebel outpost on Dantooine.

Seated on a bundle of the local grasses, baled up and waiting to be carried out to the fields, his hands busy with stripping down and cleaning his lightsaber using a borrowed set of tools, the most important question, the one he could scarcely think, even just to himself, rose to fill his mind. Could it be that Anakin, not Vader, had learned of his wife’s survival and sought to protect her?

Obi-Wan was free for the first time in months but he did not sleep, the questions too many and too loud to escape from. After everything that he had done, everything they had done to each other on Mustafar, could Padme’s survival have brought Anakin back from the dark depths he had fallen to?

In the morning when a shuttle touched down in the field, Obi-Wan walked onboard with nothing but the clothes on his back, his lightsaber on his belt, and the datacard in his fist. This was only the first step in reconnecting with the Rebellion, but it was a step in the right direction.

It took days to find a contact for the next step, another week before someone who knew where Fulcrum had been seen last, and he finally heard Ahsoka’s voice, masked as it was, on an encrypted line. “Master, we tried, we wanted –“ She fell silent, overcome with emotions, and he sighed in sheer relief.

“I know. Me too.” He had a thousand questions, a thousand more things to tell her, but there was no time on this line.

“The Phoenix is safe. And the Ambassadors. I am coming for a rendezvous. Soon. A rotation or two,” she promised.

“We can talk then.”

“Okay. Keep your head down. Fulcrum out.”

One last day of hiding gave him time to sort through the card Vader had sent, wanting to make sure there was no way it could be compromising. If everything he had theorized was possibly true, there could be only one intended recipient for the message he had given Obi-Wan.

The card was highly organized, intensively researched, and would have to be equally as completely vetted, but if it were all true it could give the Rebellion a fighting chance to survive and grow. File after file of locations, supplies, all forgotten and left behind from the Clone Wars, from Imperial actions more recently. All of it valuable and treasonous. Vader had given him this, for Padme. Had let him go to give Padme a better shot of survival. Every discovery just led him to more questions. Why now? What had changed to make Vader think that Padme was in more danger, that she needed Obi-Wan now?

Another night of freedom that he could not sleep. His head was pounding as he waited for the connection between the rendezvous ships to pressurize and the door to open. Ahsoka was on the other side and she met him halfway, hugging him tightly. “Master.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes were caught by movement behind her, a person moving into view slowly. Padme Amidala pulled her helmet off and their eyes met and locked. “We need to talk.”


	10. Chapter 10

The inside of Vader’s meditation chamber was the only place he dared to do his research; the only place he knew to be completely secure. The information filled the dome of it, information and maps, the blue glow of the holograms washing over his skin as he studied his findings.

The Rebellion was on Sullust. Vader knew it. His research and tracking had made it clear to him. Vader knew it but had no intention of telling his Emperor. Treason. Protecting Padme and the children was a distinct goal, something that for Vader was wholly separate from the Empire. He believed the structure of the Empire was necessary to keep peace and order in the galaxy. He could not let the galaxy collapse again into chaos.

It may not be a fully established depot or base yet, but the surveillance hologram he had showed a grainy wavering image of Padme Amidala pointing directions toward a crate of supplies. That was enough to warrant his protection.

He had done everything he could, sending the resources he had with Kenobi. He had no way to communicate with them but could do what he was able to keep them from being discovered. One woman and a pair of children were not a direct threat to the Empire. There was more rebel activity every day, plenty of insurgents for his men to hunt down that would not lead to the fallen Queen of Naboo and her children.

Protecting Skywalker’s family was compulsion and necessity. After a decade thinking his wife and child had been lost to him, their survival now was paramount. Vader breathed deep, relishing being able to do so inside his sphere. As he looked over the data one hand moved to rub idly at the scars on his cheek. When he spent time outside of his armor they seemed to itch just slightly. His breathing outside of the suit had gotten easier since he had begun spending so much time in his chambers searching. There were inconsistencies with his suit’s readings that he had noticed recently but searching for the cause had taken lower priority than Padme and the children. He wished he had been able to learn their names that day in the cave-in. His children.

He thought often of his fight against the small, masked fighter, the sense of him, of them, he had felt in the Force. The boy and his sister, a power in the Force together that was formidable, especially for their age. It was the closest he had ever been to his children since they had been secrets that moved inside their mother’s belly. He could remember now, coming back from the sieges and lying next to Padme, both sweaty and breathing hard in the wake of reunion, his fingers drawing shapeless lines on her taut skin, jumping when the child had pushed back against his touch. Padme laughing, smoothing her own hands across her middle and drawing his hand back to her to experience it with her for the first time. The way their eyes had found each other in the dark, the feeling of magic in the air between them.

Eyes closed, his heart thumped hard within his chest at the memory and he lifted his hand to his chest just to feel it. The metal of his fingers was sensitive enough to detect the tremor and a readout flashed a warning at one of his monitoring stations. His other prosthesis reached out and silenced the message. It was a novel feeling, after so long inside his suit with everything regulated and measured. Deliberately, he drew in a deep breath and held it in until he could feel his heartbeat thumping against his hand.

His breath left him abruptly as his research on the monitors was replaced by an incoming transmission notification. His armor moved automatically to engulf him, sealing him in with the usual hypobaric hiss. He was masked by the time the Emperor appeared on his monitors, hiding the surprise on his face.

“What is your report, Lord Vader?"

“My Lord, I –“ Vader reached out to send the falsified data package to the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. “- can find no sign of the rebels operating within the Mid-Rim.”

His heart beat fast, but it was no longer exhilaration but fury that drove him. In the weeks since Kenobi’s release things had cycled nonstop through Vader’s head. Padme’s death as a lie had certainly been arranged by the Jedi to hide the children from the Emperor. The Emperor had told him while he was still on the operating table that Skywalker had killed Padme himself. He had lied. Skywalker had feared nothing more than his vision coming to pass, so Palpatine had let him believe the vision had transpired. It had given the Emperor everything he had wanted. All he had to do was lie. Everything was lies, designed to keep him subservient, keep him suffering.

“And what of Kenobi?”

“Those responsible for his escape have been dealt with, master.” He breathed out and held it, deliberately waiting an extra beat. The anger was familiar, a cool sensation that rushed down his back between his shoulder blades. His anger could stay cold, it was not yet time for his fury to be unleashed. Soon, things would change. “I am hunting him still. His recapture is my priority.”

The Emperor laughed, a creaky, cracking sound. “Is that so, Lord Vader? Kenobi, you say. And not the child?”

His heart stopped, fully and completely inside his chest. “A child, master?” The room seemed to spin around him, and Vader ground his teeth as he sought control over himself. It was not possible. They were safe, with their mother. Guarded by Kenobi and Tano. “A youngling? Escaped from the Purge?”

The laugh sounded again, strangled and hoarse. “You have done much to hide her from me, Lord Vader.” Beady eyes glared at him from beneath his deep hood. “Is she the daughter of Skywalker?”

“The child of Skywalker died. Long ago.” He bowed his head, eyes closing behind the lenses of his helmet. It could not be -

The Emperor paused, his eyes drilling into the arch of Vader’s helmet. “Come to me on my ship. We will learn the truth together.”

Vader felt another chill creep down his spine. He had overplayed his hand. The time was growing short for him to be able to protect Skywalker’s family. One way or the other, he would soon have to choose unequivocally who had his loyalty.

“Yes, my master.” The hologram faded, leaving him alone with a pounding heart, a barely remembered sensation that felt like the prickling of sweat at his temples, and a tight feeling in his chest. He could not breathe. Fumbling fingers hit the console to his right and his suit retracted itself, freeing him from the helmet.

He gasped and it hurt, an ache he could scarcely recall. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath. His daughter was in danger. He was about to be found out as a traitor to the Empire. Even if it was a mind game of his master, there was too much truth in it for Vader to see a way out. The turning point had found him, whether he was ready for it or not.

Control. He had to have complete control of himself before he left his chamber. It was harder to gain than it was to simply think about. Desperation made him reach out, seeking answers through the Force.

Fear. A feeling so familiar and despised. Cold and sickly fear turning and roiling inside, making it hard to breathe, rising to choke and strangle. Vader caught himself before he sank into the sensation irretrievably. The sense of fear was close, shockingly, astoundingly near, but it was not his own. He searched more deliberately, reaching for the individual experiencing such fear.

The Force was strong with this person. Very strong. And that strength was now at the mercy of his fear for his sister. _Leia_. The name came to him through the Force. A storm, in the language of his earliest memories on Tatooine. Pure natural force. Strength and power. Padme had chosen well.

Something stung his eyes and Vader reached up to scrub it away. The boy needed to calm himself or he would be in as much danger as his sister. Reaching out again, Vader tried to project assurance, surety. He would not let his daughter come to harm.

The sense of surprise was mirrored between them both, Vader feeling the boy calm as the boy felt Vader’s reassurance. Each as surprised as the other to feel the Force moving between them.

There was no time for this. The Emperor expected him on his Destroyer. Vader withdrew back into himself, returning to his sphere and triggering his suit. It had never felt so much like suffocation when the dark enclosed him.

He moved deliberately, with haste but without an obvious rush that would have alerted his troopers. He would not take his Destroyer to the rendezvous. Once he got the girl out, they would need something faster than the hulking warship. His shuttle would be no good either – neither fast nor able to defend itself adequately. Not against what would be coming after him if this encounter went the way it may.

His fighter was the best option but would be a warning sign he was not sure he wanted to reveal. The shuttle would have to do and improvise something else as it became necessary.

The flight was quiet, almost meditative as Vader sought to prepare himself. Either he would bring his daughter to the dark or he would defy his master for her life. Hyperspace was a comfort he rarely let himself appreciate – the speed, the quiet, the tremendous movement – all such simple things he had never expected to have in his life.

His life was bigger now than the slave boy on Tatooine could have ever imagined. With his discoveries and the realizations that his wife was alive and raising their two children, it had expanded in a way not even Vader could have ever anticipated. The Empire was cold, simple facts and order. As the right hand of the Emperor, he could keep the galaxy safe from the chaos and pain of war.

Padme’s death had changed everything for him – the final step into a path that had felt irrevocable for so many years. The path he been driven to, maybe, but the one he had chosen, nonetheless. 

Could he even choose another path, after so long in the darkness? Would he choose to if he could?

Fear of Padme’s death, of losing her, had driven him to depths of desperation, madness, and pain. To believe for a decade that he had been the cause of her death, he had desired nothing but to unleash his pain on those who stood in his way. Peace through obedience, power through fear. Could there be another way?

Coming out of his mediation with a chill up his spine and the growing sense of change from the Force, Vader stood up and felt the space around him shift and turn. As though he was on a precipice – walking the sharp, bitter edge of something with ramifications for the entire galaxy. He exhaled, forcing it to extend past the measured, regular breaths his suit was programmed for. His chest ached but it was the sensation he sought, something outside of his suit and the mechanisms that kept him breathing. His efforts to live beyond the existence he had been given after Padme’s death.

The quiet, secret wish beat erratically with his heart. Now that she lived, perhaps he could too.

Feeling strangely at peace, Vader disembarked from his shuttle to greet the soldiers stationed to welcome him. No commandants or officers, just a squadron of stormtroopers. The Sargent at Arms saluted but did not follow, setting his men in position to guard the Sith Lord’s shuttle. He jumped to join him when Vader gestured. “Sargent, prepare a TIE Defender. I will be performing some testing before my departure.”

“Sir, yes sir!” the officer barked, nodding crisply.

Vader resumed his pace, moving through the ship toward its very center. Reaching out through the Force he could feel them. His master’s sense was familiar – strong but cold, always calculating and solitary. The girl was light and heat, a blazing, roaring fire – passion and strength that she kept tightly under her control. Balance.

_Leia._ Through the Force she appeared to burn like a star going nova. 

Vader entered the throne room with his head up, eyes seeking the girl behind his mask. She was in binders but otherwise not restrained, strands of hair hanging loose from her braids. She was the image of Padme and Vader had to rely on his machines to keep his breathing steady as he turned his head, allowing himself only a small glimpse of her before he knelt before his master on his throne.

“Rise Lord Vader. Together we will reveal the truth,” the Emperor intoned, leaning forward from the shadowy overhang of his seat. The creases and crags of his face made their own shadows and caused his eyes to glow that much more. The girl did not shrink back from either of them, only shifted her position to attempt to watch them both.

Taking his cue, Vader rose to his feet and faced the girl. “What is your name, child?” He could feel Sidious’ glowing golden eyes on him, watching for his response.

“Leia,” she answered defiantly, small shoulders squared.

“Your full name, girl,” Sidious snapped, impatient for the reaction he wanted.

Brown eyes narrowed but she did not back down. “Leia Skywalker,” she said proudly, lifting her chin in defiance of them both. “You are Darth Vader.” Much more cautiously than his master, Vader inclined his head in a slow nod. Leia nodded back, pinning him with her gaze. “You killed my father.”

Laughter interrupted before Vader could speak, the sound creaking and rasping. Sidious, reveling in the fate that had left father and daughter on opposite sides of a legacy. He would use this against them both, Vader knew. Given enough time, Sidious would burn the fire from this girl.

He remembered his own trial by fire with every breath his suit took. He lived with the pain of his failure every day. He had fought and been broken. For nothing. Manipulated and lied to. Lead to believe he had killed his wife, and his child. It had been one of the more painful aspects of discovering the truth. The lies became that much more bitter. The things he had destroyed could never be restored. The cost he had paid, the loss – he would not allow his daughter to suffer the way he had suffered. If he could save one person, after years of death and loss, it would be her.

“Anakin Skywalker was destroyed by Darth Vader; it is true,” Vader said slowly. He walked just as slowly, pacing an arch between Leia and the Emperor. When the throne was behind him, he turned and took a step in her direction. Leia stepped back. He stepped forward again and she retreated once more, stepping backwards down the steps of the dais where the Emperor’s seat was installed. “How was she captured, my master?”

He laughed again, turning his seat to keep them in view as Vader maneuvered the girl across the room. It was hard to get a glimpse of her with Vader’s billowing cape between them, but it was of no matter. “She was foolish enough to be sighted wielding her lightsaber by a local patrol. She surrendered when the troopers began turning their blasters on the locals.” Vader turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of the short handle on display on the armrest of the throne.

Turning back to Leia, he reached out through the Force. He could not speak to her, but impressions and feelings may reach her. _Let him feel your fear._ Her response was stubborn anger, fear shoved down deeper. Anger would serve as well as fear for his purpose. So long as she could feel his directions, that was the key. _Your emotions will shield us._ She pushed back with a rising anger, tempered frustration. _I can get you back to your family._

_Why should I trust you?_

Vader’s mouth twitched behind his mask, amused despite himself. She was Padme’s daughter, certainly. His smirk faded away before it could settle on his lips. _Because I will not let you come to harm._ Whatever else may happen, that was the truth. After finding out his child lived, he would not let them be destroyed.

He could feel her distrust, acrid and sharp against his senses. The Force seemed to buzz around them, between the two of them – like a conduit opened to a powerful reactor. She was warmth and light, stubbornness and compassion, control and balance. She was radiant in the Force. His beautiful daughter.

An emotion he had not felt in a decade rose within his chest - love - powerful and light, burning through him. Anakin choked it back desperately. The Emperor must not feel it, or they were both doomed.

_Trust me, Leia. I will not let him hurt you._

_Why do you care? You are the same as the Emperor._ She was frustrated, confused, but maintaining control of her fear. The words did not come through directly, but he found that he could intuit enough from her emotions.

He needed a way to draw her further away, to get her beyond the Emperor’s gaze. The looming walk would only get them so far and there was only so much further he could maneuver within the throne room. He needed her anger, her fear. A distraction against the Emperor and a shield for the emotions filling his heart. He knew how to get it, though it may cost him everything else. The truth would set him free, whatever the price.

_Leia, I am your father._

He felt her horror, the disgust and loathing rippling through the Force as she felt the truth of it. He felt her attempt to push him out of the rudimentary connection they had formed. She was strong, but he was stronger. 

_No. That’s not true! That’s impossible!_

He did nothing to stop her when she called her blade to her hand, met her golden blade with his red, the clash of their sabers meeting with a sound like thunder and lightning. Her binders fell away with a flick of her wrist.

The Emperor cackled from his seat. “Good, good! Use your aggressive feelings!” he crowed loudly. The distraction was working. He saw what he wanted to see – the battle for the soul of a person. He was too delighted by destruction to see whose soul was in conflict.

They circled each other, Anakin strictly defending himself as Leia had to rely solely on her talent with the blade as she lacked size or reach when facing him. She certainly had skill, and powerful anger, that she wielded adeptly. It was no ruse when she singed his cape or landed a blow to his arm that made him howl and recoil.

But the fight gave them range, allowing him to drive her away from the throne. From somewhere beyond the throne room the ship’s battle alarm began to wail, red lights pulsing by the door. Anakin had no time or space to consider what else may be happening beyond the duel he was engaged in.

He had managed to guide the fight to the very limits of the throne room and toward the door, which slid open with a hiss at their approach. His feint to the left let Leia spin to her right and through the doorway. He followed her with a lunge, hoping to get them out of the Emperor’s sight. Instead, he was barely able to twist away from a blue saber that should have gone through his chest but he deflected into his shoulder.

The boy was wearing a painted flight helmet with a visor that covered his face, his saber gripped with both hands as he stood between his sister and the Dark Lord of the Sith roaring in pain.

“Luke!” Leia gasped, one hand grabbing the back of his tunic instinctively. Her other hand remained gripped tight around her lightsaber’s hilt, angling the blade to guard her brother’s back. “We have to get out of here!”

“Go!” Luke ground out between his teeth, trying to hold his stance and keep his guard up against a strike that was not coming. “I’ll hold him off!”

Anakin stared at his children, his breathing hoarse and ragged. They were both here, right in front of him. The moment the Emperor realized the prizes in his grip Vader would die and the twins would be driven to the dark side or destroyed.

Reaching out, he could feel Leia reeling. Fighting him had kept her too occupied to realize that her brother was on the ship or coming for her. Now she struggled to grasp a way out for them. Anakin was looking at her when her head turned to meet his gaze, realizing her only option. “Can you get us out?”

Luke recoiled in shock, but Anakin inclined his head. It was now or never. “Step back.” Leia tugged her twin back, allowing Vader to pass through the doorway of the throne room. He slashed through the door controls without looking back. “Do not run but move quickly,” he instructed, modulating his voice as much as he could. “Stay close to me and be quiet.” Anakin risked a glance back at the door as they walked swiftly toward the nearest junction. _How did you get on board?_

Jumping slightly at the impression in his mind, Luke looked up at him. _I hired a freighter to drop me off._

Leia leaned forward to peer around Anakin at her brother. “You did what?!” she hissed; her expression incredulous.

_Hey! Quiet!_ Luke shrugged. _He said he would jump out of range of the destroyer until we could get to an escape pod and pick us up when we got away._

Anakin nodded. _Very well. If anything goes wrong that becomes the plan. I will get you to the ship but if I must turn back, get to my fighter and take off. You can fly a fighter?_ Luke nodded intently; lightsaber hilt gripped tight in his hand. _Once you take off do not come back for any reason_.

Leia’s mouth fell open to protest or argue but thought better of it, the rationalization apparent on her face. A furrow settled between her brows, but Anakin was not able to read if it was confusion or concentration. _How do we know which one is yours?_

They walked into a lift and he thumbed the control for the hangar bay. “It will have the engines running.” Leia looked up at him, another inscrutable expression on her face. “I requested a fighter be prepared when I landed. For a test flight.” His breathing was rasping. It was fortunate he could still breathe, judging just by the sound of it. “I thought perhaps we may be in a rush.”

Leia blinked, dropping her gaze to the door as the lift doors slid open. There were troopers waiting to enter the car, but they stepped aside swiftly to let Vader out, the children walking as closely behind him as they could get.

They were halfway across the shuttle bay, the TIE in sight, cockpit door open and mounting ladder already in place, when Anakin saw the deck officer’s helmet turn toward them, his hand dropping to his blaster. Anakin reached for the Force and his power leapt to answer, one hand blasting the troopers away from the fighter while the other hand ignited his saber. “Run! Get to the ship!”

The twins ignited their own sabers, deflecting stray blaster bolts as they ran. Anakin was the stormtroopers’ primary target though, his blade moving in a fluid wave to protect himself and deflect anything that got near the fighter.

The suit had never been as flexible as Anakin had been before, too bulky and heavy. It was a blunt object when once he had been a finely honed weapon. It would serve its purpose today – as a solid bulwark between his children and those that would hurt them. He just had to keep it up long enough for the ship to escape. Once both twins were up the ladder and the ship’s engines had begun cycling, Anakin shifted to the offensive, moving across the hangar to the control panel that would drop shields and tractor beams and allow the ship to get away.

He barricaded himself in the control room, the floor littered with wounded and dying men. On the deck below, the TIE fighter had lifted off but was not clear of the hangar. It lifted enough that Anakin was able to see the blond shock of his son’s hair in the pilot seat, Leia leaning around him to adjust toggles and switches on the control panels. Behind him, the locked door began to glow red as the troopers on the other side attempted to blast through.

They needed to go, or everything would be wasted. The galaxy would lose a light it could not afford if those children were captured or destroyed. 

_We won’t leave you._

_It’s too late for that now. Go back to your mother. Tell her –_

The door exploded inward, and Anakin threw both hands up, using the Force to shove the fighter free of the hangar. He got one glimpse of the fighter falling in behind a beat up Corellian freighter before his body was wracked with lightning.


End file.
